


when you are fully known and loved, you have a home

by overcomewithlongingfora_girl



Category: Avatar: The Last Airbender
Genre: ASL, Always Lots of Emotions Around Here, American Sign Language, Angst, Bisexual Sokka (Avatar), Bonding, Daring Escapes, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Emotions, Episode: s03e14-15 The Boiling Rock, Everyone Has Issues, Fluff and Angst, Found Family, Friendship, Gay Zuko (Avatar), Hard of Hearing Zuko, Holy Hell Zuko Is So Insecure, Humiliation, Hurt Zuko (Avatar), Hurt/Comfort, Hypothermia, Insecurity, Kidnapping, M/M, Mentions of past child abuse, Mutual Pining, Now I'm Just Adding Tags For Fun, Ozai (Avatar) Being a Terrible Parent, Panic Attacks, Physical Abuse, Prison, Protective Toph, Ranges From Semi to Not At All Canon Compliant, Slow Burn, Super Undercover Secret Spies, Threats of Rape/Non-Con, Threats of Violence, Toph Beifong and Zuko are Siblings, Touch-Starved, Trust Issues, Verbal Abuse, prison break - Freeform
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-06-18
Updated: 2021-01-30
Packaged: 2021-03-03 23:55:12
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 19
Words: 55,570
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24784219
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/overcomewithlongingfora_girl/pseuds/overcomewithlongingfora_girl
Summary: Zuko finds his place in the Gaang. It's not easy getting there, but in the end it's so, so worth it.Will be updated (mostly) on Wednesdays!
Relationships: Aang & Toph Beifong & Katara & Sokka & Suki & Zuko, Briefly Sokka/Suki, Briefly Zuko/Mai, Sokka/Zuko (Avatar)
Comments: 1499
Kudos: 3763





	1. Chapter 1

Maybe Sokka is still asleep, it’s the night before the invasion, and this is a dream. Tui and La, he hopes that’s it. Or, or maybe he caught some Fire Nation bug in the capitol city, and he’s hallucinating extra vividly. Maybe when Combustion Man attacked, Sokka fell and hit his head without realizing it, and now he’s gone absolutely nuts.

All of this is more plausible than what’s going on in front of him, which is Aang accepting _Prince Zuko_ as his firebending teacher.

Prince Zuko. Prince Jerk. The guy who has spent weeks, even months chasing them, trying (and sometimes succeeding!) to kidnap Aang, and attacking them. With fire! And swords! And a whole Fire Nation ship!

Sokka scrubs his palms across his face. This cannot be real.

As if it’s a play acted out on a stage, Sokka watches Zuko’s face light up when Aang accepts. It’s not an expression he’s ever seen on the prince’s face before. He looks relieved, even happy. That only adds to the sense of surrealness that permeates the entire experience. Zuko isn’t a happy guy. He doesn’t _smile._ Except for…except for now. When he pleads (for the _second time)_ to be accepted into his sworn enemy’s party, and his sworn enemy…accepts.

Maybe the fire prince is a really good liar. Yeah, yeah, Sokka thinks that must be it…but then he remembers his lessons with Piandao. Focusing extra hard on all the smaller cues, he takes note of the loose way that Zuko stands, palms open towards the group, as nonthreatening as possible. Well…maybe Zuko is a really, _really_ good liar.

Sokka tunes back in right as Zuko is thanking Aang for allowing him into the group, and Sokka’s mouth drops open all over again. Thankfully, Aang puts a stop to that nonsense. Sort of.

“Not so fast. I still have to ask my friends if it’s okay with them. Toph, you’re the one that Zuko burned. What do you think?”

“Go ahead and let him join.” The diminutive earthbender shrugs. She’s clearly already dismissed the prince as a threat, seeing as how she’s reclined on her rock like she doesn’t have a care in the world. Her feet are still burned, so she can’t exactly stand up straight, but she could at least look ready for a fight. Instead, she leans back on her elbows, until a thought occurs to her and she sits up, grinning. “It’ll give me plenty of time to get back at him for burning my feet!” She pounds her fist into her palm. Sokka sees it for the joke it obviously is, but Zuko flinches, just a little.

“Sokka?”

Shrugging, Sokka glances from Toph’s nonchalance, to Aang’s hopeful face, to Katara’s persistent glare. For a moment, he weighs the risk. Zuko _is_ a powerful bender, and a proven threat. Then again, their little group has proven themselves over and over. Aang is far more powerful than he looks. And the kid _does_ need a firebending teacher. Taking a deep breath, Sokka nods, trying to look resolved, as he wonders what the hell he’s doing. “Hey, all I want is to defeat the Fire Lord. If you think this is the way to do it, then I’m all for it.”

With his approval, they all turn toward Katara, and Aang takes a few steps forward, because he knows this is probably going to be the toughest sell. She’s still turned away from them just a little, her arms crossed, and Sokka has to admit, he isn’t hopeful. Aang, however, feels differently, because his voice is as optimistic as always when he asks. “Katara?”

“I’ll go along with whatever you think is right.” A smile bursts across Aang’s face, but Katara isn’t done. “I just think we should take precautions.” The smile falters.

“Precautions?” repeats Aang uncertainly. “What do you mean?”

“We can’t leave him on his own. Especially not if…or when…he’s firebending with you.” Katara’s voice is firm. “And…I think he should be chained.”

Sokka is still carefully watching Zuko, so he sees the way the other teen sags at this news. His shoulders drop, his head hangs, he seems genuinely upset. That, paired with Toph’s human-lie-detector testimony for the guy, is making Sokka start to feel a little sorry for him.

But then he looks at his little sister, and he knows that under her anger is fear, and hurt, and confusion. Maybe she sounds harsh and unforgiving, but she feels responsible for them, even more so than Sokka does. Sokka isn’t going to let her stand her ground on her own. “Katara’s right,” he announces, and watches Zuko wilt even more. “It’s just too dangerous. I mean, we only have one Avatar!”

He says it in a joking tone and is rewarded with eyerolls from Toph and Katara. Even irritation is just a little bit better than the outright hostility. Trying to work with this momentum, Sokka desperately wonders what kind of compromise could actually work here. “Why don’t we…I mean, he has to be able to firebend, right? So we could put…loose chains on him?”

“I…don’t know,” Aang says doubtfully, making a face. “I don’t think we should be putting anybody in chains.”

“Nobody? Not even the guy who has tried to kill you over and over and over?” Katara magically makes this one sentence sound like a pointed question directed at Aang, and an accusation levelled at Zuko, whose head cannot physically sink any lower.

“Not even Zuko.”

“Well, it’s not entirely up to you.” Katara sniffs. “Toph, do you think you could metal-bend some cuffs?”

“Hey-” Aang tries to speak up, but Katara whips around and cuts him off.

“You said you wouldn’t do this without our support. Well, I support you, but I also want you to be safe. And Sokka agrees with me!”

Suddenly, all eyes are on Sokka. He doesn’t feel as strong about this as Katara, but he’s not going to leave his little sister hanging. “I – uh, yeah. I mean, just for a while, until we know we can trust him,” Sokka compromises.

“I won’t let you down,” Zuko swears, looking at them all wide-eyed and earnest. Sokka can’t even look at him. _Dammit!_ “I promise!”

 _Double dammit!_ What does this sad, angry little prince think he’s doing, making those big puppy eyes at them, and then _promising_ he’ll be good, like a scolded little kid?

“Yeah, yeah, we’ll see.” Toph’s skeptical voice calls Sokka’s attention to her, and he gratefully turns away from the guilty sight of the surrendering enemy. “Let’s go find some bracelets for you. Sokka, give me a lift?”

Obligingly, Sokka scoops Toph up in his arms, grunting a little as he hoists her up on his hip. She has an impressive amount of muscle packed onto her small frame. “Do you know where we can find metal in this temple?”

“Nope!”

“Well, why am I already carrying you?”

Grumbling aloud, Sokka lugs Toph out of the room, and Zuko trails reluctantly after. They wander through the halls of the Western Air Temple, not talking much. The quiet between them is awkward. It feels unbreachable. What do you say to someone that’s been your enemy for your _entire life,_ and has personally targeted you and your friends for months? Sokka wishes his dad were around. Then again, even Hakoda might not know how to tackle this one.

It’s been almost an hour, and they’re not finding any metal. There’s plenty of mossy stone, ceramic tile, and some desiccated wood, but Toph can’t make serviceable restraints out of any of that. Sokka is about to abandon the search when they stumble into a room where the classic stone bed has been reinforced, or perhaps repaired, with a few rusty metal struts, almost invisible in the shadow of the stone ledge.

For a moment, Sokka says nothing, and then the ache in his arms reminds him that he’s carrying the young earthbender, and she can’t see the metal for herself. “There’s, ah, there’s some metal here, under the bed.”

Clapping her hands together, Toph stretches out blindly in front of her, reaching for where she thinks the metal must be. Sokka doesn’t have the heart to tell her she’s about three feet too far to the left. “All right, Sparky.” Zuko’s golden eyes widen in surprise.

“What’d you call me?”

“Well, you need a nickname.” The fire prince just blinks at her, which, of course, Toph can’t see. Not feeling a need to translate, Sokka steps around Zuko and places Toph carefully on the bed. Instinctively, she sets her feet on the ground, then jerks them back up, hissing. Zuko swallows guiltily, and Sokka reaches over to guide Toph’s hand down towards the metal strut. While Sokka and Zuko watch, Toph closes her fist around the iron band. A few moments pass, and it wrinkles, rumples, gives a shrug, and then peels away in her hand.

“I’ve never seen an earthbender do that before.” Zuko sounds awed.

“That’s because I invented it!” Toph sounds deeply satisfied. Then, as she turns the metal piece over in her hands, that pleasure slips into uncertainty, as she tips her face toward Zuko’s voice. “Uh…I guess, stick your hands out?”

The only sound in the room is the three of them breathing. Slowly, Zuko approaches, arms stretched tentatively before him. Sokka swallows hard, watching it happen. If Zuko was waiting for the right moment to attack, this was his last best opportunity. Hand drifting to the scabbard on his belt, Sokka prepares to defend himself and Toph, internally cursing himself for not asking one of the others to come with them. Toph is injured, after all – she’s actually blind for once, and now the two of them are the mercy of their obsessive stalker.

The obsessive stalker who is currently holding his wrists out in front of Toph, not making a single move to attack, even though he’s so close to her face. Without the excuse of impending attack to rely on, Sokka has to swallow the guilt that comes roaring up in his throat. This feels wrong. Putting the guy in chains after he walked defenseless into the heart of their camp…

It’s probably for the best, Sokka reminds himself. The man can’t be trusted. He’s attacked them plenty of times and put them in danger even more often. Sokka knows this. He _knows_ this. And somehow, Zuko still looks so young, with his big tawny eyes and his defeated body language and the way he holds his arms out so limply from his body. He’s about Sokka’s age. Must be. About Sokka’s age, and Sokka himself has never been in chains.

Without a word, Toph fashions the scraps of metal into cuffs that jangle around Zuko’s narrow wrists. They’re held together by a crude length of metal links, which Toph spends about half an hour fashioning, brow furrowed in deep concentration. Finally, she sits back with a sigh. “That’s the best I can do.”

In silence, Zuko and Sokka look down at Zuko’s new jewelry. They’re ugly, misshapen, bulky rings of metal, and the length of chain allows the firebender some freedom, but not full range of motion. He can’t stretch his arms out to his sides all the way. He probably has about two and a half feet to work with. It’s less than Sokka would have thought. That’s not the worst part of the cuffs, though. The most distinctive feature is that there’s no key. There’s no lock. There’s no way to get these restraints off without Toph, or maybe a saw.

Toph clears her throat, and Sokka startles back to himself. “Um, yeah, Toph, that looks…that looks good.”

Mutely, Zuko nods, and Sokka elbows him. “She’s blind,” he reminds the bound teen, “and you burned her feet, so she can’t sense you nodding.”

When Zuko casts an incredulous look at Sokka, the water tribe warrior glares back, assuming that the prince is being a dick yet again. Swallowing hard, Zuko ducks his head and nods again. Sokka assumes this is for his benefit, this time. “Um…yeah. They’re…good.”

Belatedly, Sokka realizes he’s just urged Zuko to praise his own chains, and he resists the impulse to slam his head into a nearby wall. “Okay!” His voice is way too loud and falsely cheerful, and there it goes, echoing off the walls. “Let’s, ah, let’s get back to the others.”

“Um…Sokka?” Zuko’s voice is extra tentative, and Sokka realizes this is the first time he’s heard his name in the fire prince’s mouth. He shivers. Glancing down, he finds Zuko stretching out a length of chain toward him. “I think this is for you.”

It’s…it’s a lead. Like you would have for a pet. The cuffs link together, and then in the middle, a third line branches out. Like a leash. “I, I thought we would need it,” defends Toph, looking irritated. It’s a defense mechanism, Sokka knows that, because she’s nervous and she doesn’t know what she’s doing. Usually, he’d make some stupid joke to help the situation, but he can’t stop staring at that gleaming length of chain in Zuko’s hand.

“Oh.” Sokka takes it, and then stares blankly down at the metal pooling in his hands. He squares his shoulders and tries to pretend this is normal. “Oh. Okay. Cool. Cool, cool, cool cool cool. I will just…take this. Let’s, uh…let’s go see…the others.”

Once more, Sokka lifts Toph, one arm under her knees, and the other around her shoulders. The hand around her shoulders also holds the end of the chain linked to Zuko.

Somehow, that bit of chain feels so much heavier than the earthbender in his arms.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I was going to wait until Wednesday to post this, and then I got kinda carried away. I will still be updating on Wednesday, but I got excited about angsty Zuko POV and of course Toph/Zuko dynamics. Hope y'all enjoy!

Zuko has to admit, he didn’t actually think that the Avatar would take him as a prisoner, even after he offered. Not that it wasn’t fair, just that Aang had always seemed so…gentle. Too trusting. Easily taken advantage of. Zuko winces at that last one. It’s not the kind of thought good people are supposed to have. He’s still getting used to this whole…good person thing. And it’s not going all that well, judging by the clanking bracelets around his wrists.

He’d just thought – well, Zuko had just thought that they would take him. Aang _does_ need a firebending teacher. Zuko had released his bison from the subterranean prison in Ba Sing Se. And that one time, Aang had told Zuko that the two of them could be friends.

Who is Zuko kidding? He tips his head back to stare at the ceiling of the Air Temple, arching high above his head. Sure, he’s done a couple nice things for the group. Far outweighing that are the times he’s hunted them…or sent assassins after them…or attacked them. Muffling a groan, he sinks his head down to rest on his arms. The discordant jangling of the chains draws Katara’s eye, and she casts a suspicious glare his way.

It’s just the two of them, right now, sitting silently near the little fire she’s built on the floor of the temple. Aang had looked so uncomfortable seeing Zuko in chains that Katara had suggested with false brightness that he go show the others that giant pai sho table he had talked about, or the all-day echo chamber. Of course, Sokka and Toph wanted to see, which led to a sticky, heavy, awkward silence as they all stared at Zuko’s chained hands and the leash Sokka held.

After a moment, Toph spoke up. “He could come with us?”

Crossing her arms over her chest, Katara shakes her head. “I don’t think he should know any more about the layout of the temple.”

“Okay.” Toph shrugs. “Sokka, can you put the chain on the ground?” When he obliges, Toph flattens her palm in the air and moves it upward in a pinching motion. While they watch, the stone around the links rises up and swallows the end of the chain. Perfect. Zuko swallows the fiery, furious protest that rises in his throat at being chained up like a poodle monkey. It’s not as if it’s a mystery to why they don’t trust him.

Not wanting to leave their enemy alone for even a second, Katara volunteered to stay behind while the others went exploring. Toph probably thought she was doing Zuko a kindness when she secured him close to the fire, but really he just feels entirely too exposed, chained to the ground with no wall at his back. Not to mention, he’s way too close to Katara, who keeps a wary eye on him at all times as she moves around their campsite preparing dinner.

Just once, he tries to make conversation. When he clears his throat, Katara looks up sharply, rolling her eyes and turning away when he tries a small smile. “So, uh, how long do you think we’ll stay here?”

“Why? Want to tell your Fire Nation buddies a timeline for their attack?” Her voice is muffled when she turns away from him, but by the time she whirls around he has no trouble hearing her, and seeing the clear mistrust on her face.

Despite himself, Zuko feels anger rise up in his chest. “I don’t know why you can’t just give me a chance!”

“Oh really?” Katara puts her hands on her hips. “You don’t know why?”

“Fine! I guess we just won’t talk!”

“Sounds great to me!”

Since that excellent display of conversational skills, Zuko’s just sitting there, legs folded. He practices his breath control, but he’s had that down since he was a child, and he doesn’t really like shutting his eyes around Katara. He just knows she’s making faces at him when he can’t see her. A small, selfish, whiny part of him is growing louder with each passing minute of him being chained to this stone floor.

 _If you were back at the palace,_ this voice points out, _you would be wandering around the courtyards with Mai. She’d probably be complaining, but at least it would be comfortable. Familiar. There would be servants to make your meals, and you would sit at a table with Father. Father, who invites you to war meetings, who is actually proud of you again. You’d even made some kind of strange peace with Azula. And you threw it all away, for this. To crouch like a captured pet on the cold stone floor of some backwards ruined temple. Was it worth it, Zuko? Was it worth it?_

It must be worth it. It has to be. Zuko has thrown everything away for this. And comfortable and safe as palace life may be…even in this fantasy, Zuko isn’t happy.

Not that he’s happy here, either. Maybe he’s just never going to be happy. He’s deep into this well of self-pity when he hears a voice beside him indistinctly, and feels someone tap him on the shoulder.

Startling out of his melodramatic thoughts, Zuko whips his head around to find that Aang, Sokka, and Toph are back. And they have others with them. Three kids, all in Earth Kingdom gear. One is seated in some kind of a rolling contraption, with his legs bound up in front of them. One is probably only seven or eight years old, and he’s wearing a soldier’s helmet that’s far too big for him and keeps falling down over his eyes. The last is about Sokka and Zuko’s age and is in the process of growing a truly unfortunate moustache. They’re all three peering curiously at Zuko.

“Uh, hi. I’m Zuko.”

“That’s a Fire Nation name,” announces the little one importantly. “And you’re chained up. Are you our prisoner?”

“He’s our guest,” Sokka tries, with an unconvincing smile.

“Do we put all our guests in chains?” The moustache kid arches an eyebrow.

“If they’re from the Fire Nation,” Katara puts in, and Zuko heaves a sigh.

“I’m kind of, um, the prince. Or I was the prince. I…I don’t think my father will let me claim the throne after this.” He waves a weak hand at all of them, at the whole situation.

As a unit, the three newcomers draw back. They dart glances at Aang, Toph, and Sokka, looking for guidance on how to act. Now, when they look at Zuko, fear and doubt overshadow the curiosity. Great. “I’m – I’m trying to join you guys.” He offers a weak smile. At least the rolling kid nods tentatively, though he looks unsure.

“Are we sure that we can trust him?” Moustache asks.

“Jet said you can never trust the Fire Nation!” the little kid stabs a finger into the sky to mark his point.

“I, I knew Jet, actually. I met him, in Ba Sing Se.”

“Really?” The kid’s eyes go saucer-wide.

“Yeah. Kinda tall guy, brown hair, always chewing on a stalk of wheat?”

“That’s him!”

“I met him. Are you one of his Freedom Fighters?”

“Yeah!” The kid looks delighted with the recognition. “I’m the Duke.” He puffs his chest out. “Did you help Jet? When you met him in Ba Sing Se?”

“Well…” Zuko considers lying, but then, Toph isn’t going to let him get away with that. “I helped him a few times. I also fought with him a few times.”

“Oh.” The Duke looks put out, but it only lasts a moment. “Well, Jet fights with everyone. Do you know where he is? Do you know when he’s coming?”

“Uh…” Zuko casts a frantic look around the Avatar’s circle. Even Katara meets his eyes this time, but they all just offer him the same helpless shrug. He remembers the broken heave of the teenager’s chest when they found him and his buddies underneath the lake. He looks down at the Duke’s hopeful, upturned face. “I…don’t know where he is. Or if he’s coming. But…I can tell you about the time we stole food from the ferry captain to help feed the passengers.”

The Duke’s eyes light up, and Zuko knows he’s said the right thing. He starts on the story, letting himself exaggerate the details a little. The captain is a fat, greedy man who’s exploiting starving refugees, and Jet, Zuko, Longshot, and Smellerbee are a band of righteous teenagers here to take him down. It’s not hard to make the captain into a slobbering villain, and the group into a courageous band of heroes.

Plenty conscious of his audience, Zuko is careful to paint Jet in the best possible light – a strong, cunning leader who is devoted to justice. He can see from the sparkle in the Duke’s eyes that it’s the right call. When the story is over, the Duke is still sitting a few feet away from Zuko, leaning in to listen, and Zuko just isn’t ready to be left sitting on his own again. The Duke looks like he’s going to move away, but Zuko clears his throat. “And then – and then after we delivered the food, we, um, we all sat and ate together. Or, we tried to. My, um, my uncle…” For a second, Zuko stops, because the idea of Uncle Iroh _hurts,_ after everything Zuko’s done. But the Duke is waiting, so Zuko takes a deep breath and continues. “Well, my uncle said that Smellerbee was an unusual name for a young man-”

“But Smellerbee is a _girl!”_ The Duke claps his hands to his cheeks, looking both horrified and entertained.

“Exactly.” Zuko shakes her head. “She was _not_ happy about that. Spilled her soup all over the place, after we’d gone to all that trouble to steal it.”

The Duke laughs. “That does sound like her.”

“And then Longshot just, like, nodded at her. The tiniest nod. And she calmed right down.”

“Longshot’s good at that,” The Duke agrees. “Wow.” His brilliant smile slips the tiniest bit. “I miss them.”

Moustache kid places a hand on the Duke’s shoulder. “I’m sorry, kid.”

The Duke shrugs. “I liked the story.” He flashes a gap-toothed grin at Zuko, and Zuko grins back tentatively. It feels a little foreign on his face, but he thinks he likes it. He almost jumps out of his skin when the moustache kid claps a hand down on his shoulder, next.

“Good story, Zuko.” He’s still not used to people talking to him like this – casual, friendly, not using his proper title. “My name’s Haru.”

“And I’m Teo!” The rolling kid helpfully provides from behind him. “I met the Avatar at the Northern Air Temple.”

“Oh.” Zuko nods intelligently and strives for something to say. “Is it…is it like here? This temple, I mean?”

“No, not at all, actually.” Teo’s face grows animated as he spins his chair, looking around at their incredible surroundings. “The Northern Air Temple is _super_ cool, but this is something else. I mean, an upside-down temple!” He shakes his head, marveling. “It must’ve been crazy hard to build. How did they think of things like this?”

“The monks who lived here designed it after the webs of spider-flies,” Aang pipes up. Zuko startles. He hadn’t known the Avatar was listening. “They can build their webs _anywhere_ – but they also sometimes get stuck in them.”

The Duke laughs. “They get stuck in their own webs?”

“Yeah, they’re pretty silly. The monks didn’t build that part into their temple design.”

“Good,” Haru casts a jokingly exasperated look at the Duke and Teo. “These two are getting into enough trouble without getting stuck in some Air Temple booby trap.”

“Don’t worry! The monks built the temple for maximum airflow, so they could bend anywhere in the whole temple. If you get in trouble, I can get you out of it,” Aang promises, with his classic shining smile.

“Hey, we’re behaving!” Teo protests, but he’s smirking as he says it, so it’s hard to take him seriously.

“Sure you are.” Katara shakes her head. “Come on, all of you. It’s time for dinner.”

The group of boys gets up to move toward the fire, and then, seemingly as one, they pause uncertainly. Four pairs of eyes drop to the chain that links Zuko to the floor. Then three of those sets of eyes fly to Aang, looking for guidance. “Let’s move you closer to everyone,” Aang offers eagerly, but Zuko shakes his head, and Aang’s smile drops.

“It doesn’t matter if I’m three feet away or three hundred. I’m still in chains!” Zuko can’t help spitting the words out. The old anger returns to him out of habit, the easiest, most familiar habit he has. Aang flinches at his tone, and, peering dully through his shaggy hair, Zuko wishes he wasn’t so fucking bad at being good.

“I’m sorry.” Zuko knows that Aang means it, but he still can’t look into the earnest wide eyes of the child Avatar. “It’s just…just until everyone feels safe around you.”

“Yeah. Sure.”

After a long, tense moment, the others wander away, and it’s almost half an hour before their subdued voices rise up again in laughter. Guiltily, Zuko wonders if it’s really worth it, ruining their fun just because he’s bitter about not being welcomed with open arms. But the shackles are still chafing around his wrists.

Around the campfire, the voices overlap and mix, cheerful and indistinct. Zuko can’t really hear or understand a word of it, but then, he tells himself, he doesn’t care. He’s fine on his own. Has been on his own plenty of times. In fact, he’s happier by himself. Drawing his knees into his chest, Zuko pretends that if he thinks it hard enough, it will become true. The truth is even when he was banished, he had his uncle.

Zuko doesn’t know how long he’s sitting by himself before Sokka approaches, still carrying Toph. There must be more muscle in those skinny arms than Zuko has realized, because Sokka’s been hauling the earthbender around all day with no complaints. Remembering Toph’s jab about getting him back for the burns on her feet, Zuko tenses as Sokka sets her down next to him, nods at the firebender, and then heads back to the fire, leaving the two benders alone.

“What do you want?”

It comes out harsher than he intended. It always does when he’s nervous. Toph seems unbothered. “You burned me.” She says it bluntly, factually, casually.

Zuko’s heart sinks. Then this is a punishment visit. “I…yeah. I didn’t, um. I didn’t mean to. I didn’t know who you were. I’m sorry.” _I’m sorry_ isn’t enough when he could’ve destroyed her ability to walk. Hell, he could’ve destroyed her ability to…see, or sense, or whatever it is she does. Hunching his shoulders, Zuko waits for whatever punishment she’s here to deal out.

“I know you’re sorry,” she says instead, with the same nonchalance. “I know you didn’t mean to. I can tell when you’re lying and telling the truth, remember?”

“O-oh. Good.” Licking his dry lips, Zuko reminds himself to be gentler as he asks, this time. “So…what do you want?”

“You flinched, earlier. When I said I could get you back for burning me.” Having his vulnerability put out so baldly makes Zuko’s skin crawl. He scans the surroundings to make sure no one can hear, but the others are all still gathered around the fire. Judging by the gesticulating and raised voices, Sokka and Katara are arguing about something, as per usual.

“I, uh, was just nervous,” Zuko excuses himself lamely.

“Well, I felt bad.” Toph shrugs. “I knew when you did it that you felt bad. It was just a stupid joke.”

“Okay.” Zuko resists the urge to nod, knowing in her present condition there’s no way Toph will know what he’s doing. “But, uh…why are you telling me this?”

“I make a lot of stupid jokes.” Toph’s brow pulls down in a frown. “But I don’t want you to be scared of me.”

“I’m not scared of you!” The words fly from Zuko’s mouth hotly, automatically, but as he says them, Toph lays her hand on his forearm, just above the place where the cuff is resting. Spooked, he jerks away, but Toph looks like she’s already felt what she needs to.

“You’re always scared, Sparky.”

Zuko stares at her.

Luckily, just then, Sokka brings him his dinner. The water tribe teenager is completely, blissfully ignorant to the tension in the air. Smiling apologetically, he hands a cracked earthenware bowl to Zuko. It’s full of thin soup with a few scavenged vegetables floating around in it. “You want some of the toucan bat? Aang doesn’t eat meat, so we can’t put it in the soup.”

“Um…” Zuko blinks, feeling utterly shell-shocked, but Toph is already leaning back on her forearms, yawning as if it’s any other night. As if nothing just happened. “…yeah. Thanks.” As he sips from the bowl, Zuko watches Sokka saw awkwardly at a scrawny piece of breast meat.

“We don’t really have forks,” Sokka explains apologetically, as he passes the greasy piece of meat to Zuko. “Everything is finger food around here!” Toph rolls her eyes at the lame joke, but with each of Sokka’s attempts, the heavy tension in the air lets up just a little. Maybe Sokka isn’t as blissfully ignorant as he seems.

Zuko takes the scrap of meat silently from Sokka’s fingers and takes another sip of his soup, assuming that Sokka will scoop up Toph and retreat back to the fire and the raucous gathering of friends around it. Instead, Sokka sits down next to Zuko, making himself at home just like the earth girl, and the firebender almost spits out his soup.

“What’re you doing?”

Sokka reflects his confusion back at Zuko, as if the answer should be obvious. “I’m eating dinner. With you. And Toph, I guess, although she eats so fast no one can really eat _with_ her.” This earns him a shove from the little earthbender.

Despite himself, Zuko is suspicious. As always, he wears it on his sleeve – his eyes narrow, his lip curls. “Why?”

Utterly unbothered, Sokka holds up a finger while he slurps up a slimy, long leaf. He starts speaking with his mouth behind the bowl, so Zuko only catches the end of it. “-you say? I couldn’t hear you over the soup.”

For a second, Zuko just stares at him. This is who he’s working with. This is the planner of the group, the navigator, the logistical leader. For the hundredth time, Zuko thinks that he has made an absolutely fatal mistake.

“Just kidding,” Sokka drawls, popping a chunk of roasted meat in his mouth. “I heard ya. Thought you might be lonely over here.”

“…Lonely?”

“You know, like when you’re alone. And you feel sad about it.”

“I _know_ what the word lonely means!”

“Okay, okay.” Sokka holds up his hands in mock surrender. “My bad.” Zuko is still glaring suspiciously at him, and Sokka sighs. “Look, if you want me to leave, I will.” He waits, and then starts to get to his feet, reaching for Toph as he does.

“W-wait.” Zuko’s not sure where the word comes from. He’s not even sure it comes from him, but Sokka is looking expectantly at him. Probably, probably Toph just wants to get inside his head. And maybe Sokka just wants to make sure that Zuko doesn’t try to burn the little earthbender all over again. But Zuko is weak. He can’t resist their offer of companionship. And they’re still looking at him expectantly, even Toph with her glazed-over eyes. “Just – I don’t care! Stay if you want. Or leave. It doesn’t matter to me.”

Settling back down, Sokka picks up his soup bowl and takes another long, loud slurp. Zuko resists the urge to roll his eyes, and then does it anyway. Sokka can’t see him with his eyes blocked by the bowl. “So,” the water tribe warrior starts, after setting down his dinner. “I guess, ah…tell us about yourself.”


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Tw: physical fighting/violence, abandonment

For the first few days, Katara doesn’t want Zuko actually firebending. At first, this prompts groans from the rest of the group, but she rounds on them so fiercely even Toph shuts up. “All it takes is _one_ mistake,” she reminds them grimly, “and this war is over. Forever.”

That makes even Zuko gulp. Breathing and strength exercises it is.

Not firebending – Sokka understands that, although it’s frustrating that they aren’t letting Aang’s _firebending teacher_ actually _firebend._ But Katara insists that she and Toph be present for the training session. “We normally all train together anyway,” she points out. “And I want to be there in case anything happens.”

Sokka doesn’t even know where to start with that. First of all, Zuko has never been able to hide his emotions in the slightest. In the past, that meant constant angry outbursts, but right now it means that every time Katara reminds the fire prince how little she trusts him, he looked like a kicked polar dog.

Not to mention, if they are worried about Zuko springing some kind of surprise attack, Sokka should be there too. He’s just as formidable a fighter as the benders! Especially now with his trusty space sword.

So when fire training time rolls around, all of them report to the central plaza, where Combustion Man blasted the fountain out of existence a few days ago. Remembering all of Piandao’s admonitions, Sokka surveys the territory and tries to picture having a sword fight across this uneven terrain. He’d have to be quick on his feet, and aware of all the grit and debris around him. Maybe it’s a good opportunity to practice his balance. He finds a rock about the size and shape of a loaf of bread and tries to balance on one foot while he draws his sword. He balances for about thirty seconds before crashing to the ground.

When he dusts himself off, all four of the others are staring at him. “I’m practicing _balance,”_ he hisses, but no one looks convinced.

It’s hard to practice sword fighting with no one to fight against. Sokka works on the forms Piandao taught him, and does some pushups, and then his arms hurt, so he decides to take a break and watch Aang.

Since Katara has forbidden any actual firebending, Zuko is working with what he can – breathing and forms. Apparently, Jeong Jeong did a pretty good job teaching Aang, because Zuko goes from looking deeply pained to mildly impressed after a few minutes. “You’re pretty good at these exercises already. Have you studied firebending at all before?”

“Yeah! I had a firebending master for a few days, at the beginning of our travels.”

“Huh. Who was it?”

“His name was Jeong Jeong, and supposedly, he was the first soldier to ever desert the Fire Nation!”

The name clearly surprises Zuko. “Master Jeong Jeong? I thought he was dead.”

“You know him?”

Zuko makes a face. “Sort of. He, um…he was…he disappeared before I could start training with him. But…he trained my cousin.”

“Wow, cool!”

After two long hours of absolutely nothing happening except breathing, even Katara has let her guard down. Aang is looking bored, and Zuko looks tired of scolding him, so they move on, and as Zuko starts talking about bending, Sokka’s ears prick up.

He’s always wished that he could bend. Water makes the most sense, because it’s the tribe’s heritage, but it would be cool to do what Toph can. Or airbending – being able to fly like Aang would be _sick._ Firebending, though. Sokka has never once considered being born a firebender. Of course, the Fire Nation has been the enemy all his life, but even now, with Zuko tentatively on their side, and Aang, the gentlest soul in the world bending fire, Sokka doesn’t really trust the discipline. The other elements have useful side benefits, and he supposes that warmth is a benefit of fire. But mostly, everything about it just seems destructive.

Zuko’s overview isn’t helping. When he talks about the elements, all of them sound way nobler than what Aang is here to learn. “My uncle always told me that air was the element of freedom. The forms teach you about being everywhere at once.”

“Hey, that’s true!”

Even Zuko can’t help cracking a smile at that. “Yeah. And water, that’s the element of change. The forms are about flow and fluid movement.” He looks to Katara for confirmation, and she gives a curt nod. Next, he turns to Toph. “Earth is the most enduring element. It’s all about stability, power, and refusing to yield.”

“Took me _ages_ to teach him all that,” Toph contributes, bouncing a pebble around on her knuckles.

“Right, because air and earth are opposite elements.” Zuko takes a deep breath. “So. Fire. Fire is the element of power. The forms focus on drive and, most importantly, energy. The movements will be less fluid and much faster than waterbending. They will have more substance than airbending, but less than earth.”

“Okay…” Aang nods uncertainly. “That…I mean I think that makes sense.”

“When you do the forms, you need to think about what you want, and use the power in your stomach to extend that energy into the real world. Your stomach holds the most energy of anywhere in your body.” For a moment, Zuko looks lost in thought, but he shakes his head and refocuses on Aang, who’s scratching his head. “Are you ready for some basic forms?”

“Yeah, I think so!”

“Okay.”

It quickly becomes apparent that it’s impossible for Zuko to teach firebending forms when he’s chained to the ground. They really should have realized this earlier. The firebender can’t even lift his hands above his waist. Sokka wonders if his nose has been itching this entire time.

“What if we keep his hands chained but just don’t attach it to anything?” Aang looks to Katara with his suggestion, and Sokka feels coldness trickle through him.

It’s true that Katara is the most suspicious. And that she’s being her classic, impossibly obstinate self. And that the two of them have been bickering since last night, when she thought Sokka was getting too friendly with the chained prince.

But as close as they’ve all become, Sokka knows his little sister better than any of the others ever will. He knows that for ten years, the lost Avatar has been the only thing that’s given her hope, and that that hope has been the only thing that keeps her going, sometimes. Now that she knows Aang personally and loves him, to lose him would be unthinkable. She’s not being cold when she refuses to take chances with his life.

So while he disagrees with her, he’s not going to let his sister be blamed for this on her own. “I think that should work,” he announces, as if he’s the one that’s worried about Zuko attacking. There’s no protest from Katara, so Toph lets the earth around Zuko’s chain dissolve away, and the fire prince immediately shrugs his shoulders and stretches his arms up and out, wincing as he does so. His muscles must be pretty stiff by now. Sokka ignores the shiver of guilt that runs through him, and wonders when he started feeling sympathy for enemies and firebenders.

They’re working in the hot sun for almost two more hours, and finally Katara snaps. “He’s exhausted, Zuko!” The fire prince has barked at Aang a little too harshly after the boy screws up some part of a complicated set of fire forms, and she has a point. Aang’s been training for a long time, and he’s clearly losing focus and energy fast.

“What?” Zuko glances back at Katara, looking faintly irritated.

“I _said,_ he’s exhausted!” The question has pushed Katara into full on anger, which doesn’t bode well for Zuko. For a second, he looks affronted, even confused, and then he settles into annoyance to match Katara’s.

“We shouldn’t stop training just because he’s a little tired.”

“Come on, Zuko, have a heart.” Katara sounds disgusted, which pulls the firebender up short. There’s a second where he looks surprised, and maybe hurt, and then he covers it with annoyed resignation.

“Fine. But we’re starting again after we eat.”

“No. Sokka and I will spar with Aang after he rests. Toph can spar too if her feet are feeling better.”

For a moment, it looks like Zuko is going to argue, and then he deflates. “Fine.”

It feels like a step back, but then when they go to eat, Zuko sits almost with them, and that’s progress. He’s a little farther away than the others, about as far as his chain will allow, but at least he’s not over in a corner by himself. Toph, at least, sits right next to him, and the fire prince looks only minorly discomfited by her presence. He faces a little away from the group, looking off to the left, deeper into the temple.

If Sokka allows himself to be optimistic, he thinks this could work. This could really work. Maybe it’s Katara getting to him, but he’s feeling more hopeful than he has since the invasion failed. Sure, that was only yesterday, but yesterday was a long, hard day, that ended with Sokka staring up at the ceiling of the Western Air Temple trying to list all of the people who he landed in prison. Having a firebending master around won’t fix that. But it’s a start to Aang learning the last of the four elements, which is a start to beating Fire Lord Ozai. And if Aang can beat Ozai, then everyone, everywhere, will finally get to go home.

Sokka can’t allow himself that much hope. It’s too risky. But if he lets himself think ahead to the next set of days, he has to admit that having two firebenders on their side can only be a good thing. When Zuko isn’t chasing them down and trying to kill them, he’s an all right guy.

Aang must be pretty worn out from the morning because he devours his food as fast as he can, and then lets out a belch to rival Appa’s. Not taking that as anything less than a challenge, Teo, Toph, Sokka, and the Duke follow it with belches of their own, although Haru cuts a glance at Katara’s rolling eyes and opts out. Apparently, the other half of their little party spent the morning making ramps for Teo’s wheelchair to jump off of. Sokka wonders whether he or Katara should be the one to point out exactly how dangerous that is.

Through all of their casual conversation, Zuko stays quiet, but he’s definitely listening. Honestly, he seems like he’s just an awkward guy, and Sokka decides to help him out a little. If he’s going to travel with them, he needs to be able to talk to them. “So, how do you know all that about the other elements? That’s some pretty intense stuff.”

Zuko looks surprised to be spoken to, but he takes the opportunity. Finally, he looks at the group head on. “My uncle thought it was important to understand the other elements. He said it’d make me a better firebender.”

“I like your uncle,” Toph says decisively.

Zuko’s lips turn up in a tiny smile. “Yeah. I like him too.”

There’s a moment of relative peace. “Here, Toph, let me work on your feet.” Katara pours out her waterskin and places her hands over the reddened skin of Toph’s feet. Her hands, and the water around them start to glow with that strange blue light. After a few moments of moving her hands carefully over Toph’s feet, Katara sits back, satisfied.

“They should be better now. Still a little tender, probably, but-”

Without waiting for Katara to finish, Toph hops up on her feet and bounces on them, testing. A grin spreads across her face and she jumps up, and then lands with enough force that the ground ripples. She nods, satisfied.

Then cocks her head to the side. Alarm spread across her face. “Someone’s-”

From above them comes a high, ululating wail. “-coming,” she finishes miserably.

In the next second they’re overrun.

There are eight of them, and they’re all armed to the teeth. Normally, the group would be able to put up a hell of a fight, maybe even beat the group, but they have the Duke to worry about. They have Teo, in his chair. And they have Zuko, whose hands are chained together, whose hands are chained to the ground.

It’s not much of a fight. Katara grabs the Duke and all but hurls him up into Appa’s saddle. Sokka, Haru, Toph, and Aang try to provide as much cover as they possibly can as she strains to lift Teo. It just isn’t working until she yanks Toph back to lift him with earthbending. Taking her place in the line, Katara pushes back desperately against the raiders, but having to defend Appa and the kids on his back is draining too much of their energy.

Not to mention Zuko, pinned out there in the open, yanking desperately on the chains that hold him in place. “Please!” he keeps yelling, golden eyes wide and frantic. The fury with which he screams at them can only be a mask for the fear, as their attackers draw closer and closer. “Please, just give me a chance, please-”

None of them can get close enough to set him free. It’s all they can do to block the arrows, swords, and melee weapons these attackers keep using against them, against Appa, who is just a giant sitting target with two more targets on his back. One of the group is even a firebender, and he keeps hurling huge gouts of flame at Appa’s furry sides. They’re forced farther and farther back toward the bison. Sokka can see Zuko on his hands and knees, hauling on his chains so hard his wrists are bleeding. Sokka sees his terror and can’t stand it, knows they need to go back and get him, free him, bring him with them, knowing that he’s not supposed to leave his men behind –

But they’re losing this fight. The Duke reels back, screaming, because the lone firebender in the group has burned his hand where he’s hanging onto Appa’s saddle. Appa’s saddle is wooden, too. With another hit like that it’ll be up in flames. The Rhinos are attacking Zuko because he’s defenseless, attacking Appa because he’s defenseless, and they’re splitting the gang’s attention three ways – defend Zuko, defend Appa and his precious cargo, defend themselves.

“We gotta go,” Haru’s yelling. “We gotta go! Guys, we really gotta go!”

“We can’t leave him!” Aang’s panicking, so are Toph and Katara, they’re all freaking out, but now Toph is on the ground, knocked over by some long pole, and there’s a bleeding mark down the side of Katara’s face. Sokka’s scraped and bruised all over, but Zuko – he’s their ally, he’s counting on them now, he needs help, Zuko –

His hands are bound but he opens his mouth and makes a sound like a roar. Huge, billowing flames pour out of his mouth. Even Aang’s jaw drops to see it. The invaders back off, but it can’t last long. “We have to go back for him.” Sokka starts it again. “We have to go back to him. We can’t leave him – look at him – he’s trapped, he’s trapped, please, come on-”

They’re climbing onto Appa’s back. Somehow, Sokka has missed that they’re actually getting on Appa’s back, they’re _giving up,_ they’re leaving Zuko behind. Katara’s shoving Aang and Toph up toward the others. Haru’s already climbed up and is fighting from Appa’s saddle. “He’ll be fine, Sokka, we have to go!” Katara’s voice is genuinely panicked now. “If Appa gets hurt – we have to leave now, while we still can, we can come back for him-”

“We can’t leave-”

“We have to go-”

“We’re not leaving Zuko-”

“Appa!” Haru’s voice somehow rises above the cacophony. “ _Yip yip.”_

They lift off, and everyone is still screaming. It’s impossible to tell what any single person is saying but all of them are yelling, everyone is panicked, and some of them are crying. Hanging over the side of the bison, Sokka sees Zuko blow out another massive burst of flame, driving the Rhinos away from himself, distracting them from Appa’s escape. He’s covering them. He’s covering their retreat and they’re leaving him.

And then they’re gone. And Zuko’s gone.


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hey y’all – it seems like a lot of people have connected with this piece and that makes me SO HAPPY. Seriously, I love all the comments and I’m so excited people are enjoying the read. That being said, the next chapter is another pretty suspenseful one, and one which is pretty hard on Zuko. I honestly had no idea people would be affected by my writing so much, but now that people have said it’s making them sad/anxious, and that is the last thing I want. So:  
> Please take note of updated tags/the trigger warnings below. There are some people that are planning on reading again only when they know that I’ve updated to Zuko being safe again: that will NOT BE this chapter. I really don’t want to cause anyone stress or anxiety, so please read with caution!  
> TW: Physical and verbal child abuse, threats, and deep angst/insecurity from Zuko.

Zuko recognizes the Rough Rhinos immediately, even without their actual Komodo rhinos, which must be waiting on the cliffside above. As a trained tactician, he also recognizes immediately that the Avatar’s group is way outclassed. They have the wheelchair kid to worry about, an actual child, and Haru, who, judging by his huge, frightened eyes, has never been in a real combat situation. Not to mention, Zuko himself, who could’ve been useful, and is instead chained to the ground and a complete liability.

The worst of it is that the Rough Rhinos have surprised them. None of them are combat ready, and even those that have been in combat situations before are completely distracted by the fear and confusion of the others – namely, the Duke, who’s yelling, and Teo, who just looks frozen. Zuko himself is pinned in out in the open, in the middle of the plaza. He hauls on the cuffs but they won’t let up; he hauls on the chain but it won’t let up. He’s trapped. He’s trapped. Without full use of his arms, his firebending is extremely limited, and since the gang won’t let him within six feet of an edged weapon, fighting with his dual broadswords isn’t exactly an option.

The group is defending him, but they can’t get to him. The Rough Rhinos realize quickly that Zuko can’t move, so they target him, and the gigantic defenseless bison. Every time that long pole comes near him, or a blade, or one of those huge, terrifying melee weapons, a wall of earth comes up to block it. They’re definitely protecting him. They don’t want him to be hurt. That doesn’t change the fact that they can’t get to him.

It doesn’t take a genius to figure out that they’re either going to have to leave him or get captured themselves. Zuko knows if it were one of the others, the rest would already be in chains. He also knows that because it’s him, they’ll be gone before the Rhinos drag a single kid off that wooden saddle.

That’s okay. That’s okay. He’s tougher than the others, he can survive being left behind. These are the lies he tells himself as the sounds of battle sing panic into his blood.

The Rhinos are all around him now. They’re trained fighters, and their targeted, relentless progress forward is as tactical as it is ruthless. The Avatar’s group, on the other hand, is distracted, fragmented, screaming at each other. They’re too far away from him to bend with the same precision. Zuko is almost on his own. It’s time for his last resort. Drawing a huge breath into his lungs, he blows out tongues of flame, driving the Rhinos back and away from him. They retreat, but the flames can’t last forever, and when they die out, Zuko is left coughing, blood dripping from between his lips. Behind him, he hears the telltale sound of Appa’s tail slapping against the temple floor, and he knows the sky bison is lifting off with a cargo much heavier than he usually carries.

So Zuko ignores the fact that they’re lifting off, they’re leaving without him, and instead heaves in a quick, deep breath to prepare himself. On the breath out, he blows flame out again, ignoring the way it sears his ragged throat. It serves its purpose. The Rhinos leap back, distracted, out of range. There’s a huge gust of wind as the bison soars over him. The archer is facing out in a flash, nocking an arrow to his bow, but Aang’s wind deflects the weapon no problem. Within moments, they’re out of range.

And Zuko is alone.

He should surrender. Zuko knows he should surrender. It’s the only sane thing to do. Still, at the idea of giving into these mercenaries, Zuko’s lips curl up in a snarl. He’ll fight them to the end. It’s the only thing he can do with the rage boiling in his blood.

It isn’t much of a fight. He has to crouch to bend fire at them, and he’s exhausted and sore and compromised, besides. It’s a bald man, with a flowing black beard, who finally knocks Zuko off his feet with an expertly wielded Guan Dao. After he loses his legs and goes down hard on the temple floor, Zuko doesn’t have a chance.

The Rhinos knock him around and hold him down as they bind his feet so he can’t run away when they let him up. “The Avatar was too careless with you,” the leader muses, as he runs Zuko’s chain through his fingers. “Your hands should be bound much tighter than this.” He tightens a length of rope around Zuko’s wrists, which are bleeding after his struggle to get free. The teenager can’t help his writhe and hiss. “That’s better. That’s what you need.”

The final touch is a bit, an actual steel bit, that the leader forces into Zuko’s mouth. “That’ll teach you not to breathe fire at me,” he snickers. “Usually we use these for the baby rhinos, but we’ll have to get a little creative with you, won’t we?”

Times like these, Zuko is glad that his defense is always anger. He’d rather curse and spit and fight at this man than let the humiliated flush rise in his cheeks. If he’s angry, he doesn’t have to be mortified. If he’s angry, he doesn’t have to be hurt. If he’s angry, he doesn’t have to be scared of what this crew will do to him.

Unbidden, Toph comes to his mind. _You’re always scared._

 _I am_ not _scared,_ Zuko tells her fiercely, still inside his own mind, tongue now held down by the unfamiliar tang of metal. _I’m the Crown Prince of the Fire Nation, I’m Prince Zuko, I’m a firebender, no one could ever hurt me._ One of the Rhinos jerks a thumb at Zuko, murmurs something to another, and they share a nasty laugh. _No one could ever hurt me._

He swallows hard and pretends it’s true.

When they haul him up the cliffside by his damaged wrists, Zuko realizes that the sting of securing the ropes is nothing compared to this pain, as the shackles are pressed into the fresh, raw wounds by the weight of Zuko’s entire body. He won’t give them the satisfaction of screaming outright, but he can’t help a few cries as his body bounces and jostles against the craggy cliff face. The Rhinos seem to enjoy it. That isn’t a good sign.

Up top, their leader, the firebender, throws Zuko across the back of his saddle like a sack of flour, tying Zuko over the back of the creature as just another piece of luggage. He barks something to his followers, but to Zuko’s ears it’s so indistinct it sounds like another language. It must be a call to action, because in the next second, the group starts moving. 

Bouncing on the back of the rhino’s saddle, Zuko has plenty of time to think. He should be planning an escape, figuring out where they’re going, maybe even scanning the horizon for anyone he might consider an ally. But he can’t do that. He can’t focus. Not after they left him chained to the floor of the temple. Defenseless. Abandoned.

He’s not a baby, he reminds himself furiously. He’s not helpless. They had to retreat. They’ll be back for him because he’s valuable and he’s helping them. Besides, they’re good people. The bitter taste in his mouth isn’t coming from the bit when he thinks that. They’re supposed to be good people and rescuing him is what good people would do.

Not leaving him in the first place is what good people would do. Trusting him, not chaining him up like a wild, dangerous animal – these are all things that good people are supposed to do. The corollary of this is that, is that…

Well, if good people are supposed to treat others right and the Avatar and his group are good people…then there must be something wrong with Zuko. But he knew that already, didn’t he? What kind of mother abandons her son? What kind of grandfather orders his grandson killed? What kind of father burns off his son’s face?

Zuko had thought it might be his family. Maybe if he left them, he’d find people who would treat him better, who could help him _be_ better, so he would deserve that different kind of treatment. Uncle was a promising example.

But look at how he treated Uncle. Hot tears threaten in the back of Zuko’s eyes just thinking about it, and he chews his cheek savagely to avoid letting the tears fall. Uncle was the exception, then. Something must be wrong with Zuko. It must be.

The Rhinos ride in relative silence for what feels like hours. The ride is mostly smooth, but Zuko’s tied tightly, and the rope doesn’t feel _great_ rubbing across his wrists. For awhile, the bound firebender focuses on that. Yes, he’d rather focus on the stinging, raw feeling in his wrists than the miserable self-doubt in his mind.

After a time, he goes half-stupid, half-asleep, from the endless rocking boredom, and the lack of water. The sun above is hot, and Zuko’s mouth is insistently pried open by the hideous taste of iron, so it isn’t long before even his tongue is completely dry.

When they stop and make camp, the first thing their leader does is bind Zuko to a tree in the middle of camp. In his head, Zuko spits a slew of unrepeatable insults at the man, but he’s not sure he could speak, even if the bit were removed. He expects them to take it out for interrogation, but for now, the leader walks away to set up his tent, and all of them ignore the prisoner in their midst.

They leave the bit in his mouth, clearly not interested in answers. Not yet, anyway. The taunting they direct at him every so often is merely to get inside his head. He needs to ignore it. Zuko knows that. Still.

“So why’d you betray your country, pretty boy? Why’d you betray your family? You trying to become Fire Lord before your time? Disrespectful. Coward. Traitor.”

The rough voices sound faintly amused as they mock him.

It goes on and on, Zuko bound and gagged and hitched to a tree in the center of the clearing they’re making camp in. They pitch their tents and make their fire and feed their beasts, and every so often, direct some vicious little question at Zuko. When they’re facing away from him, or talking all at once, it’s hard to understand, but enough of their words get through.

It’s not hard to keep his eyes narrowed in a furious glare, but underneath the rage, Zuko’s heart is pounding so fast he feels sick. Each of these men is loaded down with weapons, weapons that they use expertly. They’re burly types, who fight and kill for a living. Zuko knows his father wants him back alive, but there’s plenty of damage they could inflict without killing him. He can tell that most of them can’t wait to get started.

Finally, when their camp is prepared, and one of the men sent away to stand guard, their leader approaches Zuko. He fingers the leather bit, ignoring the hateful look that Zuko is fixing on him from just inches away. Slowly, far too slowly, he unbuckles the bit from the back of Zuko’s head.

The young firebender can’t spit out the cruel metal device fast enough. Without it, the fierce ache in his jaw rushes to the forefront, close behind it the dryness of his mouth, and the horrible taste the bit left behind. He doesn’t have much time to think about any of it because the lead Rhino’s hand has found his hair, and is hauling on it, forcing his chin up, up, up.

“Listen carefully to what I’m telling you,” he says softly, and Zuko feels the man’s breath against his all-too-exposed throat. He doesn’t want to, but Zuko shifts his head, just a little, so the man’s voice is closer to his hearing ear. It pulls hard at Zuko’s hair, but he has a feeling he needs to hear whatever the guy is saying. “You just tell me what I want to know, and don’t even think about giving me any trouble. You cooperate, you play nice, and we’ll deliver you to the Fire Lord safe and sound. My men and I won’t touch a hair on your head. We have nothing to gain from hurting you, not really. Be smart about this, Zuko. I’m a businessman. Let’s make a deal.”

Zuko barely waits for the man to finish. His voice is rough and scratchy, he can barely get the words out, but he manages what he needs. “Go to hell.”

“See, I had hoped you wouldn’t say that.” The man releases Zuko’s hair and steps back. The captured firebender longs to spit at his enemy, but there’s just no moisture in his mouth. His tongue feels like sandpaper. All he can do is glare. “Your father does want you alive, which is a pity. Tell me, do you think he wants to kill you himself?”

 _Yes,_ Zuko thinks, but says nothing.

“Maybe he’ll have your sister do it.”

_She’d love to, but he likes to do things for himself. Father has never cared about getting his hands dirty, not when it’s someone who can be erased without a problem._

“My money is on a public execution. Official procedure and all. Try you as an enemy of the state, and have the state take your head.”

_No. It’ll be him._

“I see that you don’t like my musings on how you’ll die. It isn’t a very pleasant diversion for you, I’m sure. Oh, little Prince Zuko – former Prince Zuko, I should say – you haven’t even begun to see the unpleasantness I am capable of.”

The man uncoils a long length of braided leather from his belt. “As I’m sure you noticed, boy, my weapon of choice is fire.” He strokes the loop, making sure Zuko can see the thickness of the strands, the sinister gleam it carries in the sunlight. “But lately, I’ve been trying my hand at the whip. Would you like me to show you?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know this is a rough chapter - hang in there guys! Next chapter on Wednesday :)


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> TW: blood/injuries

They’re fifteen minutes out from the fight, from abandoning Zuko, and the group is still in chaos. Even Momo is cowering, and instead of seeking comfort with any one of the gang, he’s crouched in a corner, trembling. If Sokka didn’t know better, he’d think the little lemur is praying that no one notices him. Not that anyone has the attention to spare. The Duke is wailing because Katara can’t find her waterskin to heal him, and Haru has a death grip on Teo’s chair, because with any sudden turn, the kid could roll or tip right off Appa’s sloped back. Even the normally fearless Teo is white-faced after a close call. As they were pulling away, Appa banked left unexpectedly to dodge an arrow and Teo almost went flying into thin air. It’s a long way down from the Western Air Temple, and it’s a long way down from Appa’s back.

The worst off by far are Aang and Toph. Toph is clinging to the side of Appa’s saddle, as she always does, and because her hands are occupied, she can’t reach up to wipe the tears streaming from her pale green eyes. It’s jarring enough to see her crying, but she’s also absolutely losing it at Aang. She’s _screaming_ at him, howling about how they left Zuko, they left him, and she could feel his heartbeat, she knew exactly how scared he was.

Because they aren’t on land, Toph can’t sense that Aang is crying too.

When Sokka thinks about the trouble they’re in, he feels like joining in, but that won’t do them any good. The sooner they pull it together, the sooner they can get Zuko back. Clearing his throat, Sokka sucks in a deep breath and _yells._ “Everybody, _quiet!”_

Somehow, it works. It’s the first time Sokka’s ever felt like a leader. When their scared faces turn to him, Sokka’s pretty sure that what he sees is everyone just wanting someone else to tell them what to do. And so he does.

“Okay, Katara can’t find her water. Who has water?”

Teo does, in a pocket of his chair, and so Katara gets to work healing the Duke. After that, there’s no shortage of minor injuries to attend to, and so she’s busy for the moment. That’s a good thing. Sokka turns away.

“Haru, thank you for holding Teo. Teo, are you strapped into that thing at all?”

“Y-yeah, I’m pretty well attached to the chair, the chair just isn’t attached to the bison.” Teo chuckles nervously, but Haru is far too nervous to laugh.

“Okay, I’m going to get some rope from my pack, and we’ll see if we can make Teo a little bit more secure.”

When that’s done, it’s time for Sokka’s toughest task. Drawing in another deep breath, he fortifies himself internally and turns to Toph, who is quiet, but is still glaring furiously at the miserable Avatar. “Toph. No more yelling at Aang. He didn’t want to leave Zuko either. None of us did. We didn’t have a choice.”

The tears haven’t stopped. Toph sniffles, and she sounds so miserable and lost that Sokka thinks it might be the worst sound he’s ever heard. “I could _feel_ his _heart,”_ she repeats, softer now. “He was so scared.”

“I know,” Sokka agrees, just as quietly. He remembers Zuko’s tawny eyes pleading with them, his frantic demands to just give him a chance. “We’re going back for him, okay? We’ll get somewhere safe, and then we’re going to go back for him.”

“I’m sorry,” Aang puts in, and his voice is cracking. Fuck, that’s another entry for the list of worst noises. “I-I should’ve been able to help him. We shouldn’t have left him behind.”

“We didn’t leave him behind.” Sokka shakes his head. “Not forever. We’re going back for him, okay?”

“I know Aang needs a firebending teacher,” Haru begins hesitantly. He pauses, as if he’s reconsidering, but then something in his face hardens and he goes ahead anyway. “But, look, don’t you guys think it might be too risky? We let our own fathers go to prison just yesterday. Why are we going back for him?”

“We’re going back!” snaps Toph, and there’s no arguing with that tone of voice. Still, Sokka feels compelled to explain his reasoning.

“It’s different, Haru. This isn’t like the invasion. For one, our fathers are adults. Leaders, with followers. Zuko…I mean he’s our age, he’s just a kid. Not to mention, he’s completely on his own. He was captured because…because we chained him to the floor. He didn’t have a chance. We’re not just gonna let that go.”

“But-”

“I’m not leaving another man behind!”

Sokka doesn’t realize until Toph leans into him that he’s shaking. “I’m not leaving another man behind,” he repeats for good measure. Expression guarded, Haru turns away from him and starts working on knotting Teo’s chair to the saddle.

“He’s one of us now.” Katara says it, and that’s unexpected enough that even Haru turns to listen. Her hands are shaking as she works to heal a scratch down Aang’s side, and Sokka feels guilty for not noticing how shook up she is. “He…they wouldn’t treat him like that if he was an ally. He picked us, over the entire Fire Nation. We’re not leaving him.”

Well. That’s that. The Duke settles against the side of the saddle, Toph ducks her head to wipe her face against her shoulders, still stubbornly clinging to Appa. Katara heals Aang; Haru ties Teo’s chair to Appa’s saddle. Sokka sits in the back of the saddle and watches it all, and in his head, starts to plan the rescue.

They don’t fly for too much longer before landing. Carrying seven people isn’t easy for Appa, and they’re highly visible on his back. They land under the cover of a skinny, tall mountain, and tuck in near a cave masked by hanging vines and trees. While Appa rests, Sokka shares his plan with the others. He gets the toughest news out of the way first.

“All four of us need to go,” he starts, looking around the circle at Katara, Aang, and Toph. “Aang is the most powerful. Toph can be our eyes in the dark. And…and we don’t know what shape Zuko will be in. We might need a healer.” Swallowing hard, Katara nods. Sokka knows his little sister, and he knows without healing to focus on, she’s wallowing in her regret. Eager to fill up the empty air, he keeps talking. “Here’s what I think we should do – I recognized those guys when we were fighting. They’re the same ones who messed with us in the Earth Kingdom, on Avatar Day. Remember? They ride Komodo rhinos, and those things are pretty big. We go back to the Air Temple, and Toph tells us which way they rode. I think their feet will have left impressions in the soil, if they’re as heavy as they look.”

“Genius.” Toph says it quietly, but Sokka still feels a glow of pride.

“We’ll take Appa, and we’ll wait until nightfall. We could probably beat these guys if we attacked them outright, but we also don’t need to get in a scrape like that. We just need to get Zuko and get out. It’ll be all about stealth.”

He turns to Teo, Haru, and the Duke. “Now, you guys will be on your own. You’re all warriors. I know you can look after yourselves. But without the group at full strength, I think maybe…” he hesitates. “Well…are any of you afraid of the dark?”

By the time the group soars away on Appa’s back, there’s no sign of a cave at all. The vines that drape down the side of the mountain completely conceal the small airholes that Toph and Haru left at the top of the cave. The rest, they’ve covered in a wall of earth. It’s a warm night, and the group didn’t set a fire, so there isn’t even a trail of smoke to track down. As the mountain disappears from view, Sokka is a little worried that the earthbenders did their job _too_ well. Upon returning, he knows they’ll have trouble finding the cave themselves, even knowing that it’s actually there.

Before they go, Sokka insists that they disguise themselves. Mostly this means smearing their clothes with mud, which makes Katara, Aang, and Haru groan at the thought of washing them again tomorrow, but the blues and greens and especially Aang’s yellow are just too bright. And Sokka and Toph don’t wash their clothes much anyway, so they’re really not that bothered. For good measure, Sokka ties a bandana around Aang’s head, covering his tattoo. The group already knows they’re with the Avatar, but it’s worth it to at least try to cover it up.

In the gathering dusk, the group flies mostly in silence. When they reach the cliffs above the Western Air Temple, Toph jumps down and waits, an expression of intense concentration on her face. Finally, she points east. “That way.”

Every few miles, she jumps down and repeats the process. It makes for a slow, tedious journey. Appa especially doesn’t appreciate the frequent stops and starts, but it’s worth it, because their attackers double back and change direction a few times. They’re clearly trying to avoid being followed. Sokka just hopes they think they’ve done a good enough job.

The moment finally comes when Toph jumps down, focuses on extending her range as far as she possibly can, and then freezes. Seeing the look on her face, the others slide down without asking her what it means. “That way,” she hisses, pointing off into the thick forest. “They’re probably a half a mile off.”

“Okay.” Sokka takes a deep breath. “We’ll leave Appa here. Aang, you have the bison whistle?” Aang nods his affirmative. “Good. These guys seem like they know what they’re doing, so everyone keep your eyes, ears, and…feet peeled for a sentry. Be as quiet as you can. When we get the layout of their camp, we’ll make a plan.”

The others nod their assent. Aang rubs Appa’s nose and murmurs something in his tufted ear, and with a sigh, Appa folds his six legs up under him and lies down. When he’s done settling the bison, Aang rejoins the group, and together, they fade into the trees.

It’s slow going because they don’t want to make a sound. For Sokka, even their snail’s pace isn’t slow enough. He said they’d make a plan when they get to the camp, but in reality, he has absolutely no idea what he’s doing. He’s tired of being in charge. He wants someone else to be rational for once in moments of crisis. Instead, he’s saddled with stubborn, loose cannon Toph, idealistic, avoidant Aang, and Katara, the queen of impulsivity and holding grudges. And Sokka’s in charge – the idea man who is out of ideas. Maybe…maybe when they get a little closer, he’ll think of something.

When they stop, Katara and Sokka can still only see indistinct outlines, but Aang and Toph use their seismic sense to describe the layout of the camp. The men have all pitched their tents in a circle around a central tree. Tied to that central tree is Zuko.

“He’s breathing really shallow,” Toph informs them, looking worried. “There’s something around his mouth.”

“He’s gagged, probably.” Sokka sighs. No helpful fire breath this time. “Okay, Aang, Toph, how many guys are there around him?”

“Five, I think?” Aang’s brow wrinkles.

Toph shakes her head. “I sense six. How many were there originally?”

“Eight.” Sokka’s mouth hardens into a grim line. “That’s two unaccounted for. Okay. Okay, so what we need to do is cut Zuko loose and get him out of there without anyone noticing. I think Aang should fly in and cut him loose. Toph will keep watch, and Katara and I will provide cover if any of those guys wakes up.”

It’s a decent plan, if obvious. The two missing sentries are troubling Sokka, but Toph manages to locate one of them before anyone moves. “He’s about quarter of a mile off,” she explains, narrowing her eyes as she focuses. “Doing patrols for intruders. If we walk back through, we’ll have to avoid him, but he won’t find Appa. He’s staying too close in.”

“Good.” Sokka nods. “Good, good, good. Okay.” Deep breath. Another deep breath. “Okay, um, let’s do it, then. Aang?”

The kid nods solemnly and sends himself flying across the camp. The gusts of wind that accompany him aren’t as subtle as Sokka had hoped, but none of the men stir from their tents. Toph murmurs that based on their heart rates, she thinks they’re still asleep. They watch from the bushes with bated breath as Aang places a hand gently over Zuko’s mouth and then murmurs in his ear. Even from this distance, even in the dark, Sokka can see the fire prince startle and flinch as he comes away. Wincing, Sokka squints through the blackness, desperate to see.

“Aang’s cutting him loose,” Toph murmurs under her breath to Sokka and Katara. “He’s tied with rope, except…except the gag is metal, and it’s locked. And he’s still in the chains from before. There’s no key.”

“We’ll worry about that when he gets back over here,” Sokka tells her tersely. It’s not like they have another choice. “He’s…he’s struggling. I don’t know what’s wrong…”

“Probably he’s just anxious to get free.” The group waits in tense silence.

As they watch, Aang pours a stream of water out from his waterskin and guides it through Zuko’s restraints, using it like a knife. As soon as Zuko’s hands are free, he shoves Aang, hard. The Avatar lands on his butt in the dirt, blinking up at the fire prince confusedly, while Zuko gestures frantically for him to get away. He keeps pointing toward a tree on the edge of the clearing – and then an arrow sprouts, still shuddering, out of the ground near Aang’s foot.

“I think I know where the other guy is,” Sokka mutters in the instant of silence.

Then, of course, the world explodes into chaos once more. The man in the tree lets loose with a long, loud whistle, and now all of the men are emerging from their tents, somehow already armed and ready. Almost immediately, one of them is knocked entirely on his ass by a pillar of earth. Toph is already launching herself into the fight.

This time, it’s much more evenly matched. It’s eight on five, but four are powerful benders, and they don’t have Appa or the Duke or Teo to worry about – even Haru, with his lack of combat experience, had been little better than deadweight. With his sword, Katara’s water, Toph’s earth, Zuko’s fire, and Aang’s…well, everything, the group is pretty well off!

The thing that concerns Sokka is that Zuko isn’t moving well. He can’t really firebend with his hands chained like that, and his mouth is still gagged, so no fire breath. Still, he’s faltering, he’s moving slowly. Sokka thinks he must be hurt. Maybe pretty bad.

There’s no time to think about that. There’s too much going on. They’re doing a fair job of holding off the men, but Sokka doesn’t see the point in sticking around. He cranes his neck around to find Aang. “Hey! Let’s get out of here!”

Obligingly, Aang puffs on the bison whistle, which as per usual, makes absolutely no sound. How are they ever going to know if it breaks? Their attackers certainly think it’s broken – nasty laughter breaks the quiet as they close in around the group. They’re bunched together in the center of the clearing, surrounded, and Sokka figures they still have a few minutes until Appa arrives. He’s doing his best to hold off the guy with the Guan Dao, while Toph and Katara deflect arrows and melee weapons, and Aang fends off the firebender. Okay, so maybe they’re not doing as well as Sokka thought. Zuko is standing in the middle of them, looking frightened, uncertain, utterly unguarded.

Then, looking more beautiful than any other ten-ton bison on earth, Appa soars over the moon, and Sokka knows they’re safe. Aang grabs Katara around the waist and gusts the two of them up, dropping back down for Toph, and then Zuko. Sokka tries to ignore the pained cry that escapes Zuko’s lips when Aang grabs him. Last of the group to be transported up to the bison is Sokka, and not a moment too soon. Almost before he disappears there’s a gout of flame shooting through the space where he was standing. No, thank you. Sokka quite enjoys having a body that is not just a screaming pillar of fire.

“Suck it!” He can’t resist howling over the side of Appa’s saddle as the gang soars away into the sky. “Suck it, suck it, suck _it.”_

“Real mature, Sokka.” Katara shakes her head exasperatedly.

“I think he’s got the right idea,” Toph counters, turning back for a moment before poking her head over the saddle. “Hey! _Suck it!”_

“We’re too far away! There’s no way they can hear you.”

“Well, it’s not like I can _see_ that.” Toph looks completely exasperated. There’s a moment of comfortable quiet – all of them processing, all of them assessing their wounds and catching their breath – and then Toph goes rigid again. “Zuko. Hey, Zuko, give me your hands. Let me get those cuffs off you, okay?”

Fuck. Zuko. Fuck. All the elation melts right out of Sokka when he turns to the firebender, who is huddled toward the back of the saddle, breath still labored. He keeps darting his eyes around at them, and he’s doing that thing again where he turns away from them. It’s always his left side that he’s hiding. Maybe it’s some instinctive thing, curling around his scar?

“I can’t sense you up here,” Toph reminds Zuko. “If you want that gag out, you need to come to me.”

Zuko doesn’t move. He nods, as if he wants them to know he’s heard, but he won’t look at any of them, and he isn’t moving. Drawing in a deep breath, Sokka scoots toward the firebender, and he wants to scream when Zuko flinches at his approach. Not because he’s angry, just-just-

It’s their fault. It’s their fault for leaving him. He must’ve thought…Zuko must’ve thought…chained to the ground, abandoned by the people he’d surrendered himself to, unable to defend himself against enemies…

Sokka can’t bring himself to imagine what Zuko must’ve thought.

When he’s finally close enough, Sokka reaches out and puts a hand on Zuko’s shoulder. Every muscle in the guy’s back is tensed and taut. “I’m…we’re sorry, Zuko,” Sokka says softly. “We’re…we’re really sorry for…we’re just sorry.”

The firebender shakes his head but doesn’t speak. He still has that fucking gag in, so of course he can’t speak. Carefully as he can, Sokka nudges the bound firebender towards Toph, and after an endless moment, he moves.

Casting a cornered look from Sokka to Katara, Zuko inches toward the earthbender, looking like he’s just waiting for one of them to yell at him. Sokka wants to say something comforting, something encouraging, but he has to swallow hard, because his mouth is dry all over again.

Seemingly ignorant of the thick tension in the air, Toph starts with whatever horrible metal gag is in Zuko’s mouth. The lock on the back of it crumples in her hand like it’s made of paper, and then Zuko is yanking it out of his mouth, hissing as it catches on his hair and ears. Before he even tries to speak, he hurls it over Appa’s side and into the forest.

“What was that thing?” Aang asks. “It didn’t look like a gag. Who uses a metal gag?”

Gaze dropping to his feet, Zuko shrugs. When he tries to speak, his voice is so tortured and raspy they all wince. “Have some water before you try to talk, Sparky,” Toph chides him. After releasing him from the gag, she’s looped her arms firmly around the saddle once more. It must’ve taken serious guts for her to let go of it, even for a few minutes.

Gratefully, Zuko accepts Sokka’s waterskin, and downs a few long swallows while the group waits. When he’s done, he tries to speak again, and weathers a coughing fit before he can finally get words out. His voice sounds scraped to hell and back, and he’s quieter than Sokka’s ever, _ever_ heard him, but he’s intelligible, which Sokka has to assume means his throat is okay. “It…it was a bit. For, um, for baby Komodo rhinos.”

There’s a stunned pause. “Well, that’s inhuman,” Sokka says briskly. Zuko snorts softly. It might be the beginning of a laugh.

“Let’s see your wrists.” Toph looks determined to help in any way she can, and this time, she removes both her hands from the saddle to do it. Maybe Sokka is the only one who notices these things, because when he looks over at Katara and Aang, eyes huge, neither of them seems to have noticed. Aang is frowning at the idea of Zuko being forced to wear a bit. Katara looks like she has a stomachache, which Sokka knows means she’s experiencing deep ethical turmoil. In other words, nothing much out of the ordinary.

It takes Toph a little bit longer to take apart the cuffs, but when it’s done, she grabs the metal scraps and hurls them over the side herself, with great enthusiasm. Apparently a little too much enthusiasm, because though his hands go to his mouth to cover it, Zuko wails when Toph jerks the metal away from his skin.

“Are you okay?” Toph is back to clinging to the side of Appa’s saddle, but her eyes catch the moonlight, they’re so wide. “What’d I do?”

“Nothing,” Zuko hisses, but it’s clear he’s spitting it through gritted teeth. It’s too dark to see very clearly, but Zuko has pale skin, and Sokka knows that something looks wrong with the skin around his wrists. “Nothing,” he says again, louder, but no one is taking him seriously. 

“Katara, come check him out,” Sokka insists, waving her over. But when Katara kneels in front of the fire prince, she can’t see either. Thinking quickly, Sokka waves Aang back, so now they’re all crowded around Zuko, who, Sokka can see even in the dim light of the waning moon, looks like he wants to hide. No matter. They need Aang, and Appa knows the way. He doesn’t really need a driver. “Zuko, make a flame,” Sokka instructs. “And then Aang, you’re going to have to hold it by Zuko’s wrists so Katara can see.”

“Okay,” Aang agrees uncertainly, and they all look to Zuko. All they get from him is a visible gulp, and then a nod.

Come to think of it, he hasn’t said a word since explaining the bit. When Sokka squints, he thinks he can see the prince’s jaw clenched so tight his veins are standing out. The firebender is clearly in a serious amount of pain.

When he passes off a small flame to Aang, they get to see exactly how much pain. Katara sucks in a breath. Aang squeaks. For what feels like the hundredth time, Sokka finds himself speechless. All he can do is stare.

The prince’s wrists are raw and torn and bloody – in fact, they’re still bleeding. The scraps of rope that are still irritating those open wounds must hurt like hell, and the metal that Toph so joyfully discarded must’ve been even worse. “What the hell happened?” Katara demands, fingers fumbling as she races to bring some water from her bag.

Zuko shrugs leadenly. “They…they pulled me up the cliff face by my wrists. The cuffs and the rope they used were pretty tight. And…and it’s how they secured me to the rhino. I guess at some point it just, um, started to bleed.”

“It rubbed the skin right off, is what it did,” Katara hisses under her breath. As bad as the wounds look, it only takes her a few moments to heal them, and when she sits back, there’s a collective sigh of relief. “Is that, um, is that all? Do you have any other injuries?”

By the new, brighter light of Aang’s handheld torch, they can see Zuko bite his lip. “I…um…” he sucks in a breath nervously. “There are some…wounds…on my back.”

Brow wrinkling, Katara nods. “Okay. Can you lie on your stomach for me?” Silently, Zuko nods, and that new torchlight means they all get to see his face contort with pain as he finds a new position on his stomach. With careful fingers, Katara pulls back the fire prince’s tunic.

The sound that comes out of Sokka when he sees Zuko’s back is the sound of all the air leaving his lungs at once. He feels like he’s been punched in the stomach.

There are whip marks on Zuko’s back. Bright red, twisting welts run from his shoulders to his waist, and in a few places, there’s blood where the lash had broken skin. Without thinking about it, Sokka reaches out to touch, and Zuko trembles a little under his fingers. The firebender’s skin feels hot to the touch. It must hurt. A lot.

Who the _fuck_ whips a sixteen-year-old kid?

“What’s going on?” Toph’s voice rises over their shock. She sounds demanding, angry, but Sokka knows she’s just panicked. Still, he can’t bring himself to answer. He still can’t bring himself to even breathe. “Will someone _please_ tell me what’s going on?”

“The leader of the Rough Rhinos beat me,” Zuko explains, in a flat, level voice. His throat still sounds like hell, but there’s no emotion in the words. “He was trying to get me to talk.” There’s a pause. “I-I didn’t.” Now, the blank demeanor is gone. Zuko sounds – and looks – nervous, even scared, as he cranes his head to look at their face. “I swear, I didn’t tell them anything-”

“Shut up, Sparky.” Sokka doesn’t miss the fact that Toph has untwined one of her hands from around the rail, and it comes down to grab Zuko’s. Hard. He looks up at the little earthbender, this stunned, raw expression on his face. “Katara’s going to heal whatever’s wrong with you, okay? We know you didn’t say anything.”

Katara does heal him. And Sokka has felt her blue glow-y hands enough to know, that though Zuko is squeezing Toph’s hand hard, her ministrations are thankfully painless. It takes a few long minutes under Aang’s wavering flame, which illuminates both of their faces as the benders crowd together over the flame. They watch the red marks fade and disappear, the broken skin knit back together. As Sokka watches Zuko’s back heal, he lets out a long sigh, and he can feel the rest of them start to breathe again, too.

When Zuko sits up again, he is, of course, shirtless, and it’s too dark to see how he feels about that. “Thanks,” he tells Katara. She offers him a small smile, and the relief rolls off the fire prince in waves. The two smile at each other tentatively, like they’re first meeting, and Sokka takes the opportunity to glare jealously at the firebender’s newly revealed muscular frame. What kind of sixteen-year-old kid has _muscles_ like that _?_ All those stomach muscles especially! Stomachs are supposed to be soft!

“I’m sorry, Zuko.” Aang’s face is lined with guilt. “We’re sorry. We…we shouldn’t have left you.”

Zuko swallows, looking away from Aang’s wide-eyed sincerity. “It’s fine.”

“It’s not fine!” Sokka’s voice is a little too loud in the quiet night air. At least no one can see the flush that comes to his cheeks. “It’s not fine. We shouldn’t have left you like that. It was…it was super fucked up.”

“It’s fine.” Zuko sounds exhausted. “You were attacked, it was unexpected-”

“It’s not fine.” Sokka repeats it firmly. “We’re not…we shouldn’t have chained you in the first place. And we’re not ever going to leave you again.”

Sokka knows as he says it that it’s a rash thing to promise. It’s worth it for the small, painfully hopeful smile on Zuko’s face.

“Does anyone else have wounds?” Katara’s trying to sound brave, which Sokka knows means she’s exhausted. He’s lucky to have gotten away with scrapes and bruises, which he’s not going to ask Katara to go to the trouble of healing. It’s the middle of the night. They should stop somewhere, get a few hours of rest, and then make a circuitous route back to the others, to make sure that they aren’t being followed.

Sokka is halfway through planning the next location where they should stay when a small cough from Toph interrupts his thoughts. “Actually…” The little earthbender sounds guilty, which is rare enough that just about everyone snaps around to stare at her. Reluctantly, she drags down the edge of her tunic to reveal, blazing across her collarbone, a big, bright red, blistering burn.

“Fuck, Toph.” Sokka says it quietly, exhausted.

“I’m fine.”

“Fuck.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Zuko is SAFE! Now let's deal with the consequences....


	6. Chapter 6

When she sees the burn, Katara all but tackles Toph. “Hey, cut it out!” snaps the earthbender, kicking out blindly. Zuko notes that her arms, however, stay stubbornly wrapped around the side strut of Appa’s saddle. The girl who is so famously tough on land is not as fearless in the air.

“I’m trying to help you,” Katara sits back on her heels, exasperated. “That burn looks _terrible,_ Toph. And burns are especially vulnerable to infection. Let me heal it. Please.”

Grumbling indistinctly, Toph relaxes and lies still, though her face remains set in a stubborn scowl and her arms stay wrapped around the side of Appa’s saddle. Maneuvering slowly over the shifting, rounded saddle, Aang brings his cupped hands full of flame over towards Toph. Carefully, Katara spills more water across the earthbender’s pale skin, and then places her hands over it, and the water starts to glow.

Zuko can’t look away from the pair. The magic glowing water is captivating enough, but the fiercely concentrated look on Katara’s face tugs at his chest in a way he didn’t expect. He expects he’s still feeling sentimental, a little soft, from Sokka’s declaration. Classic hotheaded Water Tribe, laying out his allegiance like that. It’s not the tactical move. Zuko should roll his eyes at Sokka’s shortsightedness. Instead, he smiles, just a little.

Dropping his gaze, his eyes land on the way Toph has her face screwed up in a typical frown, but one of her fists has come down from the saddle and is knotted tight in Katara’s skirt. Zuko stares, fascinated. Toph’s fist, white-knuckled around the fabric of Katara’s skirt, and Katara, brows drawn together, sweat beading on her forehead as she heals the younger bender. Zuko has seen them bicker a hundred times – the only person Katara seems to like _less_ is Zuko himself – and here they are, helping each other, holding onto each other. Just moments ago, Toph’s hand was in his. Katara was concentrating like that over his back. The lump in his throat makes him ashamed, so Zuko turns his head away.

Some interminable minutes later, Katara sits back with a sigh. “That’s all I can do for now.” She passes a hand across her forehead, swiping off the sweat that’s accumulated there. “I’m sorry Toph. It might scar.”

Brow wrinkling, Toph’s cloudy green eyes stare blankly out past Sokka’s shoulder. “What’s a scar?”

Dumbfounded, Zuko stares at her. The rest of the gang is staring too. “You know…a mark from an old injury?” Katara tries.

“I can’t _see_ people’s skin,” Toph reminds them irritably. “I don’t know what that ‘looks like.’ I didn’t even know injuries left marks.” She accompanies this revelation with an unbothered shrug, as if it’s no big deal.

“How could you possibly not know that?” Zuko doesn’t realize he’s going to talk until he’s already speaking. The words sound almost frantic leaving his mouth. “If you can see with your feet, then-”

“It’s not _seeing.”_ Toph heaves a long-suffering sigh. “It’s sensing. It’s like…okay. Riddle me this, Sparky. What does a smell sound like?”

Recoiling, Zuko blinks at her. “I have no idea what that means.”

“It means what it means! All of you guys.” Toph gestures expansively at the group, managing to encompass Zuko, Katara, and a great deal of empty air. She can’t exactly tell where they’re all sitting. “When a smell moves through the air to your nose, what does that sound like?”

“It doesn’t _sound_ like anything. It’s a smell. Toph, are you saying you can’t smell?”

“No, Sokka. Shut up. I’m saying that sensing where things are – my ‘seeing’ – it’s like recognizing a smell because I can hear it.”

“That makes…no sense.” Even Aang, master of bizarre platitudes, is scratching his head with the hand that isn’t currently holding their makeshift torch.

“It’s a metaphor, dummy! I don’t see. I do something that gives me similar information. But it’s not seeing. I don’t know what anything ‘looks like.’ Especially when that thing is someone’s skin, which always _senses_ the same no matter what.”

Biting her lip, Katara nods slowly. Of course, she’s the first to get it. “Okay. Okay, so a scar, then, is like…oh! So if I were to dig a hole, and then fill it in with dirt, you would be able to tell that the hole was there once, right?”

“Yeah.”

“A scar is like that. It’s healed – or filled in, like the hole – but if someone is looking at you, they can tell that you were hurt once.”

“Wait, I’m confused,” Sokka interrupts, scratching his head. “Can Toph smell or not?”

“Of course I can smell, idiot!” Rolling her eyes, Toph turns back to Katara. “People must get scars all the time, if they happen anytime your skin breaks.”

“Not as often as you’d think…usually it has to be a pretty serious injury. Plus, they’re not always permanent,” Katara hastens to explain. “Usually they fade, over time.”

Right then, Sokka has the supremely bad luck of looking up and immediately locking eyes with Zuko. The water tribe warrior drops his gaze straightaway, a flush coming to his cheeks. It shouldn’t bother Zuko. He knows that anyone with working eyes must be studiously avoiding getting caught looking at him right now. It’s the smart thing to do. Maybe even the tactful thing to do, even if it doesn’t feel that way. Regardless, Sokka has failed, and Zuko isn’t sure if it makes things better or worse that someone has finally acknowledged him. Either way, there’s a sudden, sharp throbbing in his chest. He tucks himself a little tighter against the side of Appa’s saddle.

“I want to feel one,” Toph announces, apparently completely unaware of the tension she’s breaching. “Like, with my hands. Who has a scar I can feel?”

“I have one!” Aang volunteers readily, stretching his arm around in a way that really can’t be comfortable. The way he’s juggling that handful of flames is really starting to make Zuko a little nervous. He’s pointing to the violent red crater in the small of his back. “It’s where Azula shot me full of lightning.”

Zuko winces at the memory, but no one is looking at him. “Doesn’t anyone have a firebending scar?” Toph’s voice is whiny, and Zuko lets his eyes fall shut. Yeah, so it’s got to be him. A small, panicked part of him wonders if she’s only pretending not to know – but no, Toph has no problem being painfully blunt. If she knew about Zuko’s scar, she’d ask him to touch it right off. “I want to know what _my_ scar is going to feel like.”

The sighted members of the gang are all carefully not looking at him, and finally Zuko can’t stand the long, awkward silence. “Yeah, kid. I have a scar you can…feel.”

“Really? A firebending scar?”

“Yeah.”

“Well, I want to wait until we land.” Toph wraps her arms decisively around the saddle. “I’m not taking my arms off this thing until we’re safe on solid ground.”

Automatically, Zuko nods his assent, and then remembers that Toph can’t see – no, _sense_ – the movement up here. “That sounds…good.”

Satisfied, Toph turns away to stare blankly over the rolling Fire Nation hills, and Zuko stares at his hands, contemplating. He didn’t even know, until just now, that Toph didn’t…well, know. Everyone, since he was thirteen, has seen the mark, has widened their eyes at it, have stumbled away from him when he catches them by surprise and they have to reckon with the wreckage of his face. The scar…deformity…damage, imperfection – whatever he wants to call it, it has defined him for years. Constant. Obvious. Inescapable.

He’s well used to it, and well used to being judged by it.

So why does he feel like by showing Toph, he’s losing something?

“We should make camp soon,” Sokka announces. “We’re going to spend the rest of the night away from the others in case we’re being followed. We’ll find somewhere quiet and get a few hours rest before making our way back in the morning.” They’re all satisfied with this plan, so Sokka and Aang climb up to the bison’s head to choose a place to land, while Katara keeps patiently peeking at Toph’s burn, and Toph keeps telling her to bug off.

For a while after they land, Zuko half hopes that the little earthbender has forgotten, despite knowing how stubborn the kid can be. They unload Appa, roll out some sleeping kits, and Katara bends plenty of water from the nearby river over for them to wash up and have a drink and restock their waterskins. Sokka even tosses Zuko a shirt that he can borrow, because his tunic is so dirty and sweaty and yes, in some places, bloody.

“You don’t have to do this,” Sokka tells him in an undertone, brow knit with worry. All Zuko can do is shrug. Sokka looks troubled by that, but when Zuko remains resolutely silent, the Water Tribe warrior moves away.

Zuko is exhausted, in more ways than one, after the day he’s had. He doesn’t really want to let anyone near him, far less allow one of the gang to put their hands on his _scar._ But he remembers Toph’s words in the temple, tossed out so casually. _You’re always scared._ He can be brave. He should be brave for her, right? Finally, when the others are all bedded down, and Zuko is still sitting up, waiting, unable to move, Toph appears next to him. 

Zuko is leaning up against an outcropping of rock that Toph has pulled up out of the earth, and when she creeps up next to him, he lets his eyelids fall shut, and his head drop back against the sandy stone. This is it, then. Around them, the others are still, but Zuko doesn’t know if they’re asleep or listening to everything that’s happening. Sokka, actually, must be awake, because he sits up from his place, sort of near the pair, and stretches an arm out toward Toph. So he is determined to stop this, after all.

Zuko reaches her before Sokka does. Knowing she can sense him moving, he reaches down and wraps his long fingers around her wrist, guiding it up toward his cheek. “Start on the right side,” he instructs, and his raspy voice is far quieter than usual. “It’ll, um, give you a baseline for what my skin…usually feels like.”

Biting her lip, as if she’s concentrating intensely, Toph nods, and Zuko moves her hand up to touch his face.

Before she makes contact, she pauses, face suddenly twisting into a scowl. “This isn’t a spectator event.” There’s no sound from the others, but Zuko imagines that their cheeks are reddening. “C’mon.” Toph pulls him to his feet and leads him down toward the creek, where they’re a little farther removed. Zuko doesn’t say anything, but in his heart he’s grateful that the distance may prevent the others from overhearing. He knows they must be curious, but it’s hard enough to let Toph do this. He’s glad that at least she can’t see the fear in his eyes.

“Hey.” Zuko’s eyes snap up to meet Toph’s big green eyes, though he knows it makes no difference to her. She cocks her head to the side. “Are you okay? Your heart is beating about a thousand times a minute.”

Swallowing, Zuko nods. “Yeah, yeah.” He tries to force nonchalance into his voice, but it just makes him cough. “I’m fine. Let’s do this.”

“Seriously, Sparky.” Toph looks doubtful. “You don’t have to do anything you don’t want to do. I’m just curious.”

Taking a deep breath, Zuko nods once again. “I’m fine. I swear. Let’s, um, let’s do this.” Oddly, he finds that he means it. It’s just not quite fair that the kid is deprived of information everyone else has, just because she’s blind. Besides, she’s not curious about it because of _him._ She wants to know what her scar might feel like, someday. That’s all. Quickly, before he loses his nerve, Zuko places her hand on his face.

Letting his hand fall from her wrist, he drops it into his lap, where he grips his own thigh so hard he’ll probably leave bruises. Knowing Toph, he half expects her to grab his face, knead it like the earth she bends so readily, but she’s not like that with him, not at all.

Her hands come to rest on his cheek feather-light and slow. He thinks he can feel every callous on her skin. He shuts his eyes and finds that just about every muscle in his body is tense and taut as a bowstring. With conscious, dedicated effort, Zuko takes a breath and relaxes his body as much as he can, and only then do Toph’s fingers move.

She takes her time, and Zuko supposes he should’ve expected that from an earthbender. What was it his uncle had once told him? Earthbenders are persistent and strong. Zuko might be here for a while.

Carefully, Toph’s fingers move over his cheek, back to trace the shell of his ear, his shaggy hairline. She follows along to the bridge of his nose, and Zuko thinks it’s coming, the moment of truth, but instead Toph cups his cheek with one hand and moves the other down over Zuko’s closed eye, resting for a moment on the thin skin of his eyelid.

“I can feel your eye moving under there,” she marvels. Thankfully, she has a loud voice, and Zuko can hear her even without scanning her lips. Hearing her stunned tone, Zuko has to chuckle, just a little.

“Yeah, don’t press too hard, or you won’t be the only one of the group that has to feel their way around.”

Snickering, Toph drops her fingers down, over the tip of Zuko’s nose and onto his lips, where she brushes her fingers across them, almost between them. Swallowing, Zuko has to remind himself to breathe normally. Something about this moment, her hands on his face, it feels…private, special, almost…tender. It’s a bizarre thought, even a little creepy at first, and it makes Zuko flush, but he knows as he thinks it that it’s true. Maybe it’s the gentleness with which she’s touching him. The fierce concentration, like she’s mapping out his face. The way she brushes her rough, calloused, _powerful_ hands over him like he’s delicate. Like he’s something to be careful with. Zuko swallows again. It does nothing for the lump in his throat.

Especially now – Toph’s hands are moving up to his left cheek. The pads of her fingers move over the very edge of the scar, and she stops. “Does it hurt?”

“No.”

“Okay.” She rubs lightly, brow furrowing as she tries to decipher the new input, the changed landscape of the young man’s face.

Zuko knows what she’s feeling. The skin there is, by turns, scaly and rough and unnaturally smooth. It stretches too tight over Zuko’s cheekbone, and still, years later, remains red and angry looking, though of course Toph can’t feel that. There are ridges, too, where it looks like Zuko’s face melted and healed on top of itself, where it looks like his body bubbled and boiled like a roast duck. It is not a pretty sight. Patches of tough, leathery skin mark the places where the burn was less severe, but there are few enough of those spots.

Slowly, painstakingly, Toph moves her right hand over Zuko’s face. Her fingers drift over his ruined cheekbone, over the flattened oval of his left eye. There’s the ridge that used to be an eyebrow, and the melted lump on the side of his head that still functions halfway like a normal ear. The scar pushes his hairline back on this side, and she follows each point dutifully to its conclusion, somewhere behind his stub of an ear.

Zuko has plotted the same course more times than he cares to remember. In the beginning, when it was still cratered and oozing and a horror to look at, he would peel the bandages back and search desperately for any sign of improvement. It got to be such a problem that Uncle Iroh moved a sleeping mat to the floor of Zuko’s room. “If you keep removing the bandages,” his uncle had lectured, “you are going to get an infection.”

He’d slept there for weeks, and every morning, Zuko could almost _hear_ the protesting of his uncle’s aging bones.

And when the bandages finally came off, and Zuko was unrecognizable, and the ship doctor told them, with fear in his face, that this was as good as it was ever going to get…

Uncle Iroh slept in Zuko’s room that night, too.

Zuko is jolted back to the present, back to reality, by Toph’s piping, worried voice. “This is…” Toph’s brow knits together. “Zuko, this is really bad.”

He swallows trying to get some moisture in his mouth so he can talk. “It’s old. It doesn’t hurt or anything.”

Somehow the revelation that it’s old makes Toph look even more upset. She’s scowling now, as her fingers move over his rippled skin.

As she covers more and more of his scar, making him think about it more deeply than he has in years, Zuko fights the insane, all-consuming urge to scream at Toph, tear her hands off him, flee into the wild like a madman. The gentle touch is too much – the way her fingers glide lightly over his ruined skin, the way he is now revealed to her – the marked, monstrous creature that he is. He wants to at least duck his head, try to hide that way, but he can’t. Her left hand cups his cheek, and her right has come to a stop in his hair, with her palm over his eye. With a jolt, Zuko realizes that her hands almost mirror Ozai’s, when he – when he –

With a choked gasp, Zuko jerks back, slamming his head hard into tree behind him. “Hey!” Toph shouts it, and Zuko flinches, more out of muscle memory than anything else. The weird, slow, reverent quality in the air between them has disappeared. Now Zuko’s heart is jackrabbiting in his chest, and his lungs feel tight, and he keeps gasping for air that isn’t coming. “Hey.” Toph says it again, and Zuko shakes his head desperately, not knowing, or really caring, whether she can sense it or not. Humiliatingly, he feels tears starting in the corners of his eyes, and he doesn’t have the self-control to stop them from spilling.

In his panicked state, Zuko is utterly unprepared for when Toph puts one hand in the center of his chest, places the other on top of it, and _leans_ into him with more force than a kid her size should be able to muster.

For a split second, Zuko thinks she’s trying to hurt him, but somehow the pressure actually helps him breathe. It doesn’t just help him breathe, either, it feels really…really good. Without regulating his breath, without even thinking about it, his heart rate starts to return to normal. His lungs open up. The searing pain in his chest stops. The tears flow faster, but Zuko supposes he can live with that for right now. As the moments pass, Zuko finds himself staring into Toph’s face, and he’s selfishly grateful that she can’t see the stunned, vulnerable look he knows is on his face. He feels raw, laid bare before her. And the feeling of her heavy hands on his chest seems like it’s the only thing that’s allowing his lungs to move.

Toph herself has a different, new expression on her face – brows furrowed, eyes narrowed, teeth creeping out to bite her lower lip. If she wasn’t doing what she’s doing, he might think it was anger. In some subtle, essential way, it isn’t. It’s closer to that expression that Katara wore, on Appa’s back, when she was healing Toph. That same focus, that same drive, that same underlying concern. It’s not the same, of course, Zuko reminds himself in the next second. It’s not that same care, she’s just rightfully trying to keep him from having a complete, completely embarrassing meltdown.

Still. Still, it’s…it’s nice.

The tears keep coming. It’s a reaction to Toph’s hands, but it’s also being _left_ and being taken and being beaten and being saved. This has been one of the longest days of Zuko’s life, and when he thinks about it, he doesn’t know whether to feel angry or hurt or happy or grateful. They left him, but they came back to him. He was hurt, and he’s been healed. He’s with the avatar, but they don’t trust him, and they left him, but then they said they’d never leave him, and here is this strange and confusing little girl putting her hands all over his face and calming him just by putting her hands on his chest. Zuko doesn’t know how to feel anymore. Mostly, he just feels exhausted.

Eventually, Zuko coughs and calls her off. Trying to be businesslike, he swipes the tears off his face to erase the evidence of his weakness. When he feels sufficiently cleaned up, he casts a cautious glance at Toph. “What…what was that? What did you do?”

“Chest pressure,” the little earthbender shrugs, as if it’s self-explanatory. “It’s soothing.”

After a moment, when it’s clear no further explanation is coming, Zuko nods, still a little shell-shocked. “Yeah. I guess it is.” Another moment of quiet passes between them. Zuko sucks in a quick, ragged breath. “I’m…I’m sorry I freaked out.”

Toph shakes her head. “It’s okay. It seems like it’s a sensitive subject. And you’ve had a hell of a day.” For being blind, she’s easily the most perceptive of any of them. Now, though, her face changes, and her hand creeps up to finger the bandage that Katara has strapped across her collarbone. “Is…is my scar going to feel like that?”

“No,” Zuko assures her, feeling confident about this. “You have a waterbender for a healer – they’re the best anywhere. Besides, yours wasn’t, um…” he scratches his head. “As serious as mine. Well, wait, it’s, it was definitely serious!” he rushes to add, worried that he’ll sound like he’s dismissing her. “Just not as…severe?” He winces. That doesn’t sound much better, does it?

Troubled, Toph keeps running her hand over the bandage. “Yours must’ve been _really_ bad, huh?”

“Yeah,” Zuko admits, voice hoarse. Toph, thankfully, doesn’t seem to notice.

“Is it…” her face twists as she thinks it over. “Is it a bad thing to have a scar?”

The simple question floors Zuko. “Uh…uh…” What a fucking question. Desperately, he scans the area for Katara, Sokka, Aang, any of the others. They’re nowhere to be found. Probably asleep. Fucking Agni. Fucking dammit. “It’s…it can be.”

“Oh.” Toph’s voice is small, but the word is unmistakable even as she turns her face downward. Zuko feels his insides twist.

She’s not asking about his _honor,_ or the mark of a traitor, or the shameful associations of a father’s disapproval. She’s still just a little girl, asking about what it means to have a burn mark on her skin. “It’s not a bad thing!” Zuko says it with a little too much force, and Toph’s head snaps up to regard him quizzically. “It’s not. I…I misspoke. It just shows that…that you got hurt once. There’s nothing wrong with that.”

“Yeah.” A small smile curves up Toph’s face. “And it shows I fought the Fire Nation!”

“That too,” Zuko agrees, his amusement audible.

“Thank you for letting me see your face,” she says quietly, her voice low but distinct and serious, and there’s this feeling in Zuko’s stomach, he can’t explain it, a feeling as if the words are hitting him, but gently. A feeling like, _oh._

“Of course. It’s only fair. Everyone else does.” Zuko’s rambling, but he can’t stop himself. “And, and I guess you wanted to…see…what your scar would look like.”

“And I like to know what people’s faces look like. When I care about them.”

Oh. _Oh._ Zuko is so glad she can’t see the way he’s looking at her right now. The lost, blown-open, utterly helpless way he’s staring into her little pensive face. And, being Toph, she doesn’t let up for a second.

“So how’d you get your scar?”

There she is again. There’s no way he can roll with these punches. He’s still trying to blink the shock of her last statement out of his eyes. Her hands on his chest. Every part of just everything, tonight, all the way back to Sokka promising that they’d _never leave him again._ “Uh…” stutters Zuko intelligently. “It was, uh, a training accident.”

For a long moment, Toph just looks at him, and Zuko feels his face heat up under her gaze. “You know, I can tell when you’re lying.”

Turning away, Zuko forces his shoulders up in a shrug. “You must’ve gotten something wrong. That’s the truth.”

“You don’t have to tell me.” She can probably feel the release in Zuko’s muscles when she says that, the lowering of his heart rate, maybe even the breath he let out. If she didn’t know he was lying before, she sure knows now.

“It was a training accident,” he repeats stubbornly, uselessly.

“Whatever, Sparky.” Toph sighs lightly. “But you’re the one that just told me scars aren’t something to be ashamed of. It just shows you were hurt once.” She cocks her head to one side and cracks a cheeky grin. She reaches up, with her small, tough hand, and touches his cheek, right over the scar. Zuko feels his breath stop, but he manages not to flinch this time. “And it shows you fought the Fire Nation.”

With that, she turns and wanders away back to the campsite. She doesn’t wait for him; she seems to sense that he needs time. She’s right. Zuko remains lying against the tree as if pinned there, utterly breathless. All of her careful, gentle mapping of his face. She, she said she cared about him. She held his hand on the back of that bison – everything, everything from the little earthbender tonight. Hell, he still can’t get over the fact that the group came back for him. _They came back for him!_ Him, former Crown Prince Zuko of the Fire Nation. And not just a search party, either. The Avatar himself came to rescue Zuko, and all the Avatar’s closest friends. They beat the fucking Rhinos. They put themselves in danger. They apologized for leaving him at all, and they healed his wounds, and Sokka said they’d never leave him again.

As much as Zuko has to process, as much as he has to think about, he can’t help marveling at his strange, bold self, too. A scar isn’t a bad thing. That’s what he’d told Toph. That simple, revolutionary thought. A scar isn’t a bad thing.

And of course it wasn’t! She’s just a twelve-year-old kid, and a damn brave one, at that. Traveling the world fighting by the side of the avatar himself – that’s _nothing_ to be ashamed of. Zuko’s heart thumps painfully, unfamiliarly, as he recalls the tentative, frightened expression on her youthful face.

Some small part of him pushes further – _that’s what you looked like. That’s about the age you were when Father marked you as a traitor and a coward._

For just one moment, Zuko shuts his eyes and tries to picture setting his hand ablaze, and forcing it down over Toph’s terrified, tearful face. The image has barely come together in his mind before he’s slamming his palms into his eyes as if that can erase the mental picture. No. No, that’s disgusting. How could someone do that to a child? Certainly not a kid like Toph – tough, tomboyish, determined little Toph, who seems to have decided that she is firmly on Zuko’s side. Her spirit, her fire, the feeling of her cool little hands moving so carefully over his skin. Zuko’s chest throbs painfully just thinking about it. No way she deserved to suffer like that for some childish mistake. No one deserved that. Maybe not even…maybe not even him.

As Zuko pushes himself to his feet, to follow in Toph’s tracks and find the others, her defiant final words echo in his head. _You’re the one that told me scars aren’t something to be ashamed of. It just shows you were hurt once. And it shows you fought the Fire Nation._

Incredibly, Zuko ducks his head and smiles.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay I know Toph + Zuko's face has been done to DEATH but consider this: I'm obsessed with it
> 
> Anyway please let me know what you think! I'm loving all the comments :)
> 
> ALSO just a side note chest pressure during a panic attack is genuinely super helpful (in my personal experience) and I would highly recommend


	7. Chapter 7

After the incident with the Rough Rhinos, things are different for Team Avatar. Aang, who was already friendly before, is outright excited about Zuko’s presence. Teo and the Duke love his stories. And Toph treats the fire prince like she’s known him forever. Even Katara has warmed up a little, although she’s still far jumpier around him than any of the others. Haru is the only one who doesn’t seem to have shifted whatsoever, but the guy has more than enough reasons to be shifty around firebenders. Sokka thinks that for now, he’d better just let it go. Katara’s new civility is victory enough.

Honestly, Sokka likes Zuko. He’s pretty quiet, but he has a dark, surprising sense of humor, and he’s helpful, if nothing else. With him around, chores around the campsite get taken care of in about half the time.

And, okay, there are other things. He’s, ah. Well. There weren’t many – or _any –_ other guys his age down in the South Pole, and Sokka thinks he might be learning something new about himself when he sees Zuko with his hair down and shaggy around his face and Sokka’s stomach does this twisty thing that it usually only does around pretty _girls_. That’s too much for Sokka to think about right now, so he focuses on what’s concrete. Zuko’s funny, and he’s helpful, and he’s another fighter on their side. Plus, he’s teaching Aang to firebend. If that means Aang defeats Fire Lord Ozai, Sokka will happily befriend any number of their enemies.

Just not the Rough Rhinos. If the group runs into them again, Sokka doesn’t know what he’ll do. Every time he remembers the marks they left on Zuko’s skin, he sees red. 

Of course, the morning after they rescue him, Zuko wakes up and asks, in this small, defeated voice, if they’re going to put him in chains again. “My, um, my wrists are healed. If you want to do that now.”

Maybe, Sokka thinks, with a sick feeling in his stomach, they’re not much better than the Rough Rhinos after all.

“Absolutely not,” Toph declares, crossing her arms over her chest and glaring around at all of them as if daring them to argue.

“We’re not doing that, Zuko,” Sokka promises, trying to make his voice sound firm instead of guilty. “We shouldn’t have done it in the first place, and we’re really sorry.”

It’s hard to tell if Zuko believes it, because he ducks his head so they can’t see his face. There’s a heavy feeling in the air when Appa lifts off.

When the rescue team reunites with the boys waiting in the cave, Sokka moves them back to the Western Air Temple. At first, everyone thinks he’s crazy, but he brings them around to his point of view with a few reminders. “It’s hidden, it…it should be easy to defend. It’ll be easier to defend with Toph on the lookout, anyway. Plus, the Rhinos think that we’ve been driven out of there. With any luck, they’ll spread the word, and everyone will assume we’re long gone. Really, it’s the safest place for us to go right now.”

By the time he’s done talking, Sokka has convinced himself of the genius of his plan, but the others don’t look so sure. “Won’t anyone else looking for us go there first to look for clues or tracks?” Toph folds her arms over her chest. “I don’t think it’s such a good idea, Snoozles.”

Bristling at the nickname, Sokka shakes his head. “We’re on a flying bison, what do they think we’ll leave behind? A detailed map of where we’re headed?”

Toph shrugs, refusing to concede the point. “Maybe they’re hoping they’ll get lucky.”

“Why don’t we stay there a few more days, and then move on?” There’s Aang, ever eager to avoid conflict. “The gardens are overgrown, but we can replenish our supplies with some of the plants and fruit trees there. We’ll get going if we see any sign of trouble, but I think Sokka has a good point.” A soft look comes to Aang’s eyes. “And I like it there.”

Even Toph, disagreeable as she may be, isn’t going to argue with Aang about spending a few extra days in his ancestral homeland. Unlike the other temples, Aang doesn’t seem to have as many painful memories here. In fact, Sokka would guess that he didn’t spend much time at the Western Temple at all. Rather than being essentially a living memorial, the place is just familiar, and pleasantly nostalgic. For Aang, things that fit that description are few and hard to come by. Sokka thinks they should all let him take as much time there as he wants. It also just happens to fit very conveniently with Sokka’s idea of what they should do.

They scope out the temple first, and find it, thankfully, deserted. The damage the Rhinos left puts creases in Aang’s forehead, but when Katara offers to help clear off the debris, he brightens. They all spend the first part of the morning doing manual labor to beautify the temple, which Katara swears is worth it for the smile on Aang’s face. Sokka feels a little differently, but Katara reminds him he already got his way when they decided to return here, so he should just keep his mouth shut. He supposes she has a point there. 

After the morning spent cleaning, the group breaks for lunch, and privately, Sokka wonders how long they’ll have to feed the three extra kids. Haru’s earthbending is certainly useful, but not as advanced as Toph’s or even Aang’s. And Teo has his father’s inventing eye, but no materials. The Duke has combat skill, but the kid can’t be more than eight years old. Perhaps Sokka is biased, but he’s more inclined to think of them as a collection of liabilities, rather than true allies. Plus, they eat a lot, and with Aang so sensitive about hunting, it’s a real inconvenience.

While they eat a sparing lunch of tubers and greens, Sokka thinks about the stores they have left and tries to calculate how much food they need to get them through to the day of Sozin’s comet. He also takes the moment to daydream a little about tiger-seal jerky, and moose-lion steak, and just about _any_ kind of meat. Everyone else is chatting – except for Zuko, who’s turned a little away from the group yet again. He looks focused, like he’s thinking hard about something, and Sokka decides reluctantly not to disturb him. He and Aang are training with actual fire this afternoon.

While they’re gone, Sokka runs through a few halfhearted exercises with his sword and his boomerang. Katara and Toph are practicing bending somewhere, and it’s a mark of Katara’s newfound trust that she doesn’t insist on being there for the firebending lesson. The other boys are exploring the temple. Both groups had offered that Sokka go with them, but he waves them ahead with some excuse about making plans.

Honestly, Sokka would be happy to never make a plan again. Without the group around, he slips very, very quickly into an all-too-familiar well of self-doubt.

He’s glad they rescued Zuko. He’s so fucking glad. Tui and La, the monsters they’d saved him from – it makes his blood boil just thinking about it. The problem is that he’s thought about it a little too long and thinking about one mistake makes him think about all of his others.

Namely the fucking invasion. Spirits above, he’s responsible for that disaster. After seeing how Fire Nation vigilantes treated the _crown prince_ …Sokka’s terrified for his father, Haru’s father, all the brave allies who’d risked their lives –

Burying his head in his hands, Sokka tries to remember how to breathe. Just, how is the Fire Nation treating his dad? Is Hakoda going to be okay? And Bato, Bato was still injured when he was captured. And Teo’s father, taken too. Haru’s father, after he’d _just_ been released from a different prison. The guilt feels acidic in Sokka’s stomach. He looks down at his half-finished bowl of salad and finds he can’t eat, and for him, that’s a pretty big deal. He can’t focus on training, can’t focus on plans – all he can think about is the good soldiers rotting in Fire Nation prisons because of _him._

He’s almost grateful to have new bad news to think about. When Aang and Zuko rejoin the group later that afternoon, after a suspiciously short time training, Zuko looks sheepish. “I…I’m having a really hard time bending,” he admits, scratching his neck. “I don’t know what happened, but I think I might have…like, lost my bending?”

“Really?” Sokka can’t resist. It doesn’t matter how-how-how – okay, how _hot_ the guy is, if he can’t firebend, he’s little better than useless. “And you couldn’t have done that sooner, like when you were trying to kill us?!”

“I’m sorry! I don’t know what happened.”

Arching an eyebrow, Katara folds her arms across her chest, and Sokka waits for her challenge. “Maybe you just don’t want to teach Aang to firebend.” There it is.

“I swear!” Zuko shakes his head. “Maybe…I don’t know. I’m not training him the way I was trained, but-”

“So just train him the way you were trained.” It seems obvious to Sokka, but Zuko winces.

“I…I don’t think that’s a good idea.”

“Why not?”

Zuko glances at Katara. “You said he does best with positive reinforcement?”

“Yeah.”

“That’s not the way I was trained.”

“Well…what does that mean?” Katara wants to push him, but honestly, for Sokka, it’s hard to care how Zuko was trained. The only important thing is how _Aang_ is trained. And that it works. And that they defeat the Fire Nation.

“Look, I got Aang started by throwing rocks at him and letting Sokka get attacked by a sabre-tooth moose lion,” Toph points out. “And then I stole Aang’s staff. And made fun of him a bunch. And it worked!”

Looking doubtful, Zuko glances from Toph to Katara. It’s pretty clear from Katara’s face that if Zuko were to try anything like that with Aang, he’d have one angry waterbender to answer to. “Yeah, I don’t know about that…”

“Well…I first learned seismic sensing when I ran into some badger-moles after running away from home. Maybe you should try learning firebending from the source.”

Frowning, Zuko shakes his head. “The original firebenders were the dragons, and there are none left alive.”

“What?” Aang sounds shocked. “There were tons of dragons around when I was a kid! What happened to them?”

“They aren’t around anymore!" It’s so hard to tell what will set Zuko off, but apparently this does, because now he’s glaring at Aang, who just looks confused.

“Okay, okay, sorry. Is there…I mean, is there anything else?”

“What’s a natural thing that makes fire?” Sokka’s trying to be helpful, but as he wracks his brain, he comes up empty.

Katara doesn’t. “You could ask a volcano to teach you firebending.” Her voice is poisonously sweet, and when Zuko glares at her, she drops the act and glares right back. Their brief peace has ended, apparently, now that he’s snapped at Aang, and she has a new reason to be frustrated with him. It had been a sweet reprieve while it lasted.

“Is there anyone _else_ who could teach you firebending?” Sokka desperately needs to keep them on track.

“The ancient Sun Warriors were the first to learn from the dragons. Their civilization isn’t far from here. But they died out ages ago.”

Aang’s nose wrinkles. “They definitely weren’t around when I was a kid.”

“So they _definitely_ can’t teach you firebending.”

One good thing about Katara’s endless feud with Zuko is that it makes Sokka actually appreciate her usual hopefulness. The bad thing is that when Katara refuses to be hopeful, Sokka is left completely out of ideas.

“Well…maybe we can still learn something from the Sun Warrior civilization,” Aang suggests, smiling hopefully at Zuko. Even the fire prince and his anger issues can’t stay grouchy in the face of Aang’s indomitable optimism.

“It can’t hurt to go poke around their ruins.”

“Do you know what’s over there? I mean, have you ever been before?” Haru doesn’t sound skeptical, just curious, but Zuko still glares as though Haru is directly criticizing him.

“No. The Fire Nation cares more about the future than the past. And the Sun Warriors weren’t Fire Nation, either, so none of our instructors cared.”

“Geez, okay.”

Now Zuko looks a little regretful for snapping, but of course there’s no way back. “Maybe there will be a mural or something you can learn from,” Sokka offers, trying hard to diffuse the tension in the air. “Or, uh, some scrolls.”

Zuko shakes his head grimly, seemingly determined not to be cheered up. “That, or the avatar finds a new firebending teacher.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As y'all can probably tell from this chapter I'm going to be loosely canon-compliant for a bit - obviously adding and subtracting wherever I want haha, but so many of the life-changing field trip episodes are SO GOOD. There are still plenty of surprises to be had, though, so stay tuned!   
> As always I am loving everyone's comments and feedback :) This fic is going to go on for a good long while with the way I've planned it, but if y'all have other ideas or things you want to see, I'm definitely up for suggestions/requests!  
> That is enough for now anyway hope y'all enjoyed!


	8. Chapter 8

Zuko had not planned on being alone with the Avatar for hours. Considering how they’d kept him _chained_ for the first few days, and how Katara makes it clear every chance she gets that he’s not to be trusted, Zuko assumed that all four would come along. The Avatar’s core companions. He was okay with that – Katara would be there, glaring at him and making snide comments, but at least Sokka was reliably friendly, even kind, and seemed committed to keeping the peace. And Toph…Zuko still didn’t know how to feel about the confusing, surprising little earthbender. When he thinks about her hands on his face, his throat gets tight. He thinks she likes him, although he doesn’t know why. Out of all of them, she’s the one he thinks he could call a friend.

Of course, she’s not here right now. It’s just him, and the avatar. As much as the rest of the group treats him like a person, the flying bison doesn’t count. Even if Aang does seem to understand his bellows like they’re speech.

Below them, the endless sea passes, flat and blue. The same it’s looked for hours. At least with the others around, Zuko can try to listen to their conversation, though the whistling wind makes it difficult. Now, though, there’s nothing to listen to, because Zuko and the avatar aren’t exactly having a heart to heart.

“For some reason I thought this thing would be a lot faster.” Zuko says it mostly to himself, but apparently louder than he means to, because he sees the Avatar stiffen. Beneath him, the bison lets out a growl.

“Appa’s right. Usually we try to have a more positive attitude at the beginning of a mission.”

The Avatar’s voice is ever upbeat, but gently chiding, and Zuko heaves a sigh and lies down on the saddle without responding. He _knows_ he was the enemy forever, and he _knows_ he’s still a stranger to them, and he _knows_ that all of them are caught up in being hopeful and cheerful and bright. But Zuko’s getting real tired of never saying the right thing. 

So, mulishly, he decides to stay silent. The rest of the trip passes quietly. The avatar seems unbothered, and Zuko has to admit that it’s a pretty peaceful way to travel. There’s not even the endless rocking of waves that had been a way of life for the past three years. Appa seems to glide along air currents as if they’re a perfect, frictionless slide.

When they reach the civilization of the Sun Warriors, Aang sends Appa off into the overgrown fields to graze and nap. Turning back to Zuko, he looks determined and, as ever, hopeful. “Let’s go find some Sun Warriors!” he trills.

And almost immediately falls into what has to be every booby trap still active. There’s a false floor, a set of swinging knives, and a pit of spikes, just to name a few. Only the speed and strength of his airbending saves Aang from about a half a dozen grisly ends. Zuko, meanwhile, is wondering if maybe he should walk first. Sure, Aang might not be able to save him from the next centuries old death-trap, but at least Zuko won’t have to worry about what Katara will do to him if he comes back without Aang. Whatever the Sun Warriors dreamed up; it can’t be half as bad as that waterbender when someone gets on her bad side.

“Maybe we shouldn’t be here,” Aang says finally, after narrowly avoiding a snare that would’ve left him dangling by one foot from a nearby tree.

“People only make traps like this if they have something worth protecting,” Zuko points out. And there’s something about these traps that’s bothering him. They couldn’t possibly stay primed and sharp for a couple hundred years, could they? But there’s no way the Sun Warriors survived and absolutely _no one_ knew…

Aang has come to a stop in front of a mural. It’s a carving of a dragon duel. Zuko has seen dozens of them, and this isn’t even one of the better ones. Something about it has captured Aang’s attention. “Do you think this will tell us something about firebending?”

“No,” Aang replies hesitantly. “Just…why do they look so angry? If the dragons taught the Sun Warriors firebending, they would’ve been…allies. Friends, like Appa and me. Why would they be fighting each other?”

There’s a pit in Zuko’s stomach as he answers. The words come slow, and they do not come easy. “I don’t think those are Sun Warriors that the dragons are fighting.”

“What do you mean?”

“My great-grandfather Sozin…started a…a family tradition, kind of.” Zuko squeezes his eyes shut. “Fighting dragons.”

“ _Fighting dragons?!”_

“They were the ultimate firebenders,” Zuko explains with a helpless shrug. “Anyone who fought and killed one was given the honorary title of ‘Dragon’, starting with Sozin, after he killed…after he killed…”

“Who?” Aang knows that as fucked up as the story already is, it’s about to get so much worse. He can tell from the tone in Zuko’s voice, and his brow knits as he stares up at the taller teenager. “What dragon did he kill?”

“Avatar Roku’s dragon. Fang. The story goes that after the avatar died in an eruption on his home island, his animal companion went mad. Fang attacked Fire Lord Sozin, and after Fire Lord Sozin…beat Fang, he named himself the Great Dragon. Others…nobles, his children, his generals…they wanted to follow in his footsteps. They wanted to be dragons too.”

“And so the firebenders wiped out _all_ of the dragons?” The avatar sounds rightfully repulsed.

“My uncle killed the last of them, long before I was born.”

“Your uncle?” Aang looks personally betrayed. “I thought he was one of the good guys. I thought he was different.”

“Yeah, well, he has a complicated past.”

“It seems like everyone in your family does.”

Zuko tries not to let on how much that hurts. He does a fair job of holding in his anger and his frustration and his doubt as they move through the ruins. It mostly works, right up until he finds himself literally glued in place right next to the avatar, and all those little annoyances become that much harder to bear. Especially because Aang isn’t letting anything go, either.

“You just _had_ to pick up the giant glow-y rock,” the Avatar gripes. Even after hours, he’s still fighting against the sticky goo that’s encased them.

Zuko has long since given up. “At least I tried something,” he points out sullenly. “We didn’t come here to walk around and gawk at ruins.” The solidified goo around them shifts as Aang struggles. “Cut that out! It’s obviously not helping.”

“Oh, so _now_ you want to sit still and not do anything.” Zuko can _feel_ Aang rolling his eyes. “What do you suggest we do instead?”

“Contemplate our place in the universe?” Zuko knows immediately it’s a stupid thing to say. He’s glued to a grate in an abandoned city with the freaking _Avatar –_ Aang known his place in the universe since he was what, ten years old? It only became clearer when he woke up in a changed world one hundred or so years removed. His destiny is to bring balance. Zuko knows it’s not an easy task. It might even be impossible. Still, it would be kinda nice to know so clearly what course one’s life was supposed to take. Agni knows it took Zuko long enough to figure out his path. Even now – especially now – he’s not sure if he chose right.

Then the Sun Warrior appears and Zuko realizes that he really just doesn’t know anything at all. About anything. Because a living fossil is pulling him and the Avatar out of their goo prison and letting aardvark sloths _lick_ the slime off them. Still shell-shocked, the pair stay quiet, staring with big eyes at the people around them.

Zuko, for one, is not too stunned to notice that the warriors have made a circle around him and the avatar, and all their spears are pointed inward. With a sinking feeling, he recalls how they messed with the celestial calendar, entered what was probably a sacred temple, and attempted to steal what was probably a _very_ sacred relic.

Correction: Zuko tried to steal it. He didn’t realize anyone was still around! In ruins as old as these, isn’t it sort of finders keepers?

Seeing the fierce looks and painted faces of the people around him, Zuko sort of doubts that excuse is going to work.

As if reading his mind, the man that must be the chief speaks up. “For attempting to steal our sunstone, you must be severely punished. Usually, the penalty for such a violation is death.” Blanching, Zuko and Aang exchange panicked looks. “Considering your youth, I suppose we can make an exception. You.” He points his spear at Zuko. “You will lose the hand you used to steal the sunstone. That is more than merciful.”

“Wait! Wait, wait, please.” Zuko can hardly breathe at the thought of losing his right hand. There’s no way even a waterbending healer could fix that. “We didn’t come here to steal your sunstone, I swear. We…we came here to learn. We just want to learn firebending.”

“That’s an obvious lie,” snorts a skinny man to the left of the chief, another painted guy with suspicious, darting eyes. “They’re thieves, and they should be punished.”

“Please.” Aang’s face is so round and shining and innocent, so clearly harmless. They’ll listen to him, won’t they? “I don’t mean to, well, play this card, but I’m actually the avatar.” The warriors glance around at each other. None of them seem to process the importance of that, and Zuko wonders, with a sinking feeling, if the concept of the avatar has any importance to this isolated, insular, deeply traditional people. Aang’s confidence seems to falter at their lack of reaction, but he takes a deep breath. “Please just…hear us out.”

Right now, it still looks like Zuko is going to lose a hand, and he guesses he may as well try complete and devastating honesty. It might help their case if they see that he’s sincere. Or it might make them change their minds back to wanting to kill him. Still. It’s got to be worth a try. Taking a deep breath, Zuko stands and clears his throat. “My name is Zuko. I…I was the Crown Prince of the Fire Nation.”

Again, no reaction. They’re waiting.

“I…my people have…corrupted the ways of firebending. I was raised to believe it was fueled by rage and, and pain, and lust for power.” Now there are reactions. The warriors are shaking their heads, looking angry. One of them spits, off to the side, but Zuko flinches as if the spray had been directed right at him. “I know now that that’s not right. I know that your people knew… _know_ a better way. I never imagined that you would still be here…I’m truly honored to be in your presence.” He _is._ These people learned from dragons. They lived with dragons. For them, fire is good, it is the sun, it is culture and community and home. Zuko wants to know _how._ “Please. We only meant to learn from you. Please, teach us.”

Both teenagers bow their head, and their fate hangs in the tense silence before the chief speaks. “It’s not for me to decide. If you want to learn the way of the Sun, you must petition the masters Ran and Shaw.”

Surprised, Aang looks from the chief to Zuko. “There are two of them?” Zuko shrugs. He doesn’t know any more about it than Aang.

“Before the masters decide to teach you, you will be judged.” A cold trickle of fear runs down Zuko’s spine. The chief steps closer, towering over them. “They will see your hearts, your souls, your ancestry.” Ducking his head, Zuko fights back panic. “If they deem you worthy, they will teach you all you wish to learn. If they don’t, you will be destroyed.”

Maybe Zuko should’ve stuck with losing a hand.

The Sun Warriors lead him and the avatar to another building. Inside, a fire roars in a great golden stand. Even with his firebending dulled and ineffective, Zuko can tell that the flames leaping from the back of the room are incredibly powerful. “In order to be granted audience with the masters, you must bring them a piece of the Eternal Flame. This fire has burned here since the first dragons blessed the first of our people with fire. We have sustained it for thousands of years.”

Jaw dropping, Zuko’s feet move without him even thinking about it. “Unbelievable,” he breathes. He reaches out for the flames, not really intending to touch, far less bend, but just wanting to be closer to something that he can _feel_ in his bones is ancient and sacred and enduring. The chief watches him without speaking, until Zuko remembers himself and drops his hand, embarrassed. Aang comes up to stand beside him.

“You must each take a piece of this fire to the masters, to show them your commitment to the sacred art of firebending.”

At this news, Aang winces. “Well, so the thing is, Mr. Sun Warrior chief-man…” He scratches his head. “I’m not exactly a firebender yet. Could Zuko carry it for me?”

“No.” The chief turns to face the flames. Slowly, reverently, the chief reaches into the snapping flames and draws out a part of the roaring fire. Carefully, he splits it into two parts, placing one hand before Zuko, and the other before Aang. Zuko knows how he must look because he feels nothing short of awed. He takes the fire like he’s holding something delicate and smiles despite himself when he feels it crackling above his fingers.

“This is the essence of the Sun Warrior philosophy. You must maintain a constant heat.” The chief’s stern gaze lands on Aang. “Too small, and you risk the flame going out.” Now, he moves his eyes to Zuko. “Too big, and you may lose control.”

Nodding, Zuko cradles his flame, and glances over at Aang, who is still frozen and apprehensive. “I…I’m sorry, I’m just nervous.” Slowly, as if scared of it, Aang reaches for the flame. When it settles in his hands, without spreading or burning, an impossible little smile spreads over the airbender’s face. “It’s like a little heartbeat.”

The wonder in his youthful voice sends a sharp, insistent twang through Zuko’s chest, and he almost stumbles. “Fire is life,” the chief continues sagely, “it is not mere destruction. You will carry your flames up the mountain, to present to the masters. They live in the caves beneath that rock.”

The mountain in question is high. It’ll take an hour, maybe two, to climb, especially with at least one hand essentially incapacitated. The terrain looks rough. At the top, they’ll be judged by some omniscient, all powerful benders, and then…

Well, Zuko thinks he knows what will happen then. He’ll burn up in a pillar of flame, but at least Aang will get the knowledge he needs. How anyone could look at that kid and not think that he’s pure of heart? Descended from monks, too! It looks like Aang has found new firebending teachers after all. Zuko’s heart aches fiercely in his chest.

But Aang can’t make the climb alone. He keeps his flame too small, moves too slowly, despite Zuko’s urging. “You have to let it grow,” he urges, as Aang panics over another flicker. “It’ll go out if you keep it that small.”

“But what if I lose control? I already hurt Katara. I don’t trust myself around fire.” 

“But you trust _me_ with fire?” As he’d hoped, Aang cracks a grin.

“That’s different. You’re a firebender.”

“A firebender who tried to kill you. And has since lost the ability to bend.”

“You never tried to kill me.”

Zuko swallows. “Huh?”

“You tried to capture me. You never tried to kill me.” Thinking about it, Aang shrugs. “You never even hurt me.”

The lump in Zuko’s throat is hard to speak around, but he manages. “I tried.”

“You _didn’t.”_ Aang is insistent. “You weren’t trying to hurt me. You were just trying to capture me. And I mean…so was the rest of the Fire Nation.”

“I…”

“You also freed me. From Admiral Zhao. He was gonna…” Aang’s flame really flickers now. “He was gonna…”

“He was a cruel man.” Aang nods fervently.

“And Sokka and Katara would’ve…they might’ve died from fever if I hadn’t gotten back to them in time. Really, you saved our lives. All of us.”

Flushing, Zuko shakes his head. “That was one time. And I don’t know about…saving anyone’s life.”

“I do. And that was before you’d decided to help us. That was when you were still hunting us. You saved me because you didn’t want me to get hurt, the way that Zhao would’ve hurt me.” Aang’s big, luminous eyes are too much for Zuko to handle right now, so he looks away and clears his throat harshly. 

“Anyway, it doesn’t matter. Give your flame a little more room to breathe. You can handle it. You’re a talented kid.”

Tentatively, Aang takes his advice, and the resulting smile outshines the growing flame in the boy avatar’s palm. They keep climbing, and Zuko tries to ignore the way he feels changed, raw, newly seen, after the avatar’s frank assessment of him. Yeah. There’s no way the masters can’t see that boy as pure.

That’s why, when the drums are booming and rocks are rumbling, when Aang panics, and his flame goes out, Zuko won’t share his. It’s not selfishness. It’s not even the thick, choking fear that’s making his breath stop and his body shake. It’s because he has this moment of blinding worry – if he shares his flame with Aang, and it’s marked with him, with Zuko, with his lesser, darker, unworthy aura, the masters might burn the avatar alive.

Zuko can’t let that happen. Rather than let Aang share his fire, he lets the flame go out. Now both of them are destitute. Agni, let them see the boy for what he is. Zuko doesn’t care what the Sun Chief thinks about it, the war is not Aang’s fault. They have to spare this kid. They have to spare the kid, and maybe, just maybe, spare Zuko too.

Then the twining, scaled, rippled shapes of two dragons explode from the caves, and Zuko knows he’s done for.

His family destroyed the dragons. His family, _his family,_ is responsible for the deaths of the entire species. Still, knowing his fate is sealed, knowing that any minute, red or blue will swoop down and swallow him whole, Zuko can’t stop staring. They’re beautiful. They’re huge, and powerful, and terrifying, and so, so goddamn beautiful.

“Zuko. Zuko, remember the dance we learned?”

“ _What?!”_

“The Dragon Dance!”

“The firebending form?”

“I think we’re supposed to do it now.”

“Based on _what,_ exactly?”

“Do you have a better idea?!”

Rather than admit that he doesn’t, Zuko forces his feet into the first position. The next comes fluidly, and then the next. The forms themselves aren’t the ones that he was taught, but they’re familiar as cousins, comfortable. His body is more than ready to fall in line.

When they’re finished, fists pressed together and panting, Zuko waits for the blast of fire that will end their lives. Looking up, they find the dragons seated on the bridges on either side of them. In unison, the gorgeous reptiles tilt their heads back and exhale a rainbow of flame into the air above their heads. A swirling vortex of fire, and shape, and color. Color like Zuko’s never seen. Color like he’ll never see again.

“I understand.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Some Zuko-Aang bonding for y'all! 
> 
> Also this is Real Dumb but I don't understand HTML and I want more spacing between lines just cuz I feel like all my chapters are big ugly walls of text. So if anyone can maybe helpfully explain how maybe triple space this I would very much appreciate it! I know I did something before because the default spacing is even less than this but. I forgot what I did. And coding scares me. 
> 
> All right that's all for now - please let me know what you think in the comments! Or teach me to code! I will love you either way!


	9. Chapter 9

“It was incredible.” Zuko’s hands hang in the air for a second as he tries to find the words, and then they fall. He can’t describe whatever he’s trying to express. Zuko and Aang have been trying to explain their life-changing field trip for over an hour now, and they’re not coming up with much. The firebender still sounds so completely starstruck it’s hard not to smile at his stunned expression. He looks almost _goofy,_ with this big, uncharacteristic grin that keeps breaking through his stoic expression. Sokka wants to laugh, but he’s afraid that if he does Zuko will shut right down, and that’s the last thing they want. The fire prince looks more relaxed than he has the whole time they’ve been here. It seems like just for a minute, he’s gotten outside of his own head. Sokka, for one, is happy about it. The firebender is more at ease, and for a few moments, Sokka doesn’t have to keep torturing himself with thoughts about kidnapped Zuko and imprisoned Hakoda.

Katara, of course, looks deeply conflicted once more, but even she has to smile when Aang pipes up. “And there were _dragons!”_

“Agni. I still can’t believe there are living dragons.”

“Zuko’s uncle lied about killing the last one!”

“You’ve told us this about a hundred times,” Katara reminds the two, rolling her eyes, but she sounds quietly amused anyway.

“Man.” Zuko shakes his head. “Man.”

“Zuko was amazing,” Aang puts in, and Sokka grins, seeing Zuko duck his head. He’s blushing. The fire prince is _blushing._ And if Sokka’s honest, he’s going to have to admit that it’s kind of adorable. “He convinced the Sun Warriors to let us petition the masters. Before that, they were going to cut his hand off.”

“Aang carried Eternal Fire all the way up the mountain to the masters, and I know he hasn’t firebended in months.” Zuko offers Aang this shy little smile that Sokka finds just as oddly endearing. “You did really, really well.”

“And you guys can both firebend now?” If the hesitation wasn’t audible in the Duke’s voice, it’s visible in his face, as he looks from Aang to Zuko. The happiness on Zuko’s face falls, just a little, and Sokka knows he must be thinking about the pain his people have caused. The Duke’s hand is drifting to the burn that marked his arm just the other day. Thanks to Katara, it’s gone, with no trace left behind, but the memory clearly lingers.

“Yeah, we’ll be firebending, but it’s not going to be a scary thing,” promises Aang. “It’s…fire isn’t just destruction, it’s life, and it’s energy…” Aang’s going all starry-eyed again, with the memory. “It’s so much more than pain and destruction.”

“If you say so,” Katara mutters. Zuko winces, and Sokka lets out a quiet sigh. The tension is fully back in the firebender’s body. Oh well. It was another nice little moment of peace. Sokka really does believe they’re getting better.

But now that Katara’s snapped at him, Zuko goes quiet, and stays quiet, doing that thing where he turns his head to the side and seems to focus on something in the far distance. This time, Sokka doesn’t just ignore it. Enough of that. Enough of the gang being separate, awkward, split. Enough of Sokka spending every spare minute agonizing over all of the mistakes he’s made. Now should be about bonding with the rest of the group. Tui and La know that Zuko, of all people, could use some bonding with the rest of the group.

“Zuko.” Sokka calls to him across the circle, startling the other teen. “What’re you thinking about?”

Now they’re all looking at him, and under his gaze, Zuko reddens. “Uh…nothing, really.”

“You looked super focused!”

“I was just listening.”

“You weren’t even looking at us,” Katara points out, sounding combative. Of course, the fire prince takes the bait.

“I was listening!” he insists, glaring at Katara as if daring her to challenge him. “Just using my hearing ear.”

The shift in the air comes fast – Katara feels guilty instead of righteous, and Zuko looks uncomfortable as everyone examines him. “Your…hearing ear?” The Duke tips his head. “Aren’t all ears hearing ears?”

Zuko, unbelievably, chuckles. “Not this one.” He points at the melted stub of his left ear. 

“Wait, so can you hear out of your burnt ear?” Count on Toph to say it bluntly.

Zuko shrugs, then seems to remember that that’s not the best way to communicate with Toph. “I have some hearing. Just not much.”

“Well…what does that mean? For, for listening to us, and stuff?” The Duke isn’t eloquent, but he gets the point across.

Clearly uncomfortable with all the attention, Zuko shrugs once more. “I…I don’t know. I can’t really hear people when they talk on that side. I can’t always hear if people whisper, at least, not well enough to understand them.”

“Should we all talk louder?” Aang’s face brightens with an idea. “Oh, wait.” He takes a deep breath. “SHOULD WE ALL-”

“No!” Zuko rolls his eyes. “You don’t need to yell. I can hear conversation just fine. Just…sometimes, um, lip reading helps. So facing me is, um, is good.”

“Well, then why do you face away from us when we’re talking?” Sokka can tell all Zuko wants is to be done with this conversation, but everyone keeps having questions, especially Aang and the Duke, and now Teo. None seem to have any qualms about asking them, either.

“Tracking conversations can be hard,” Zuko admits, scratching his neck. “When more than one person is talking at once, especially. And…” he glances over at Aang. “And the wind around here isn’t…great. It makes it really hard to hear you guys.”

Aang looks shocked. “I didn’t realize!”

“It’s really not a big deal,” Zuko mutters, looking pained.

“We can move inside!” Aang is already bouncing to his feet, but Zuko shakes his head.

“Really, it’s fine. It doesn’t make sense to move inside. We should be out here for training. We shouldn’t have a fire inside either.”

“If you say so.” Aang doesn’t look satisfied, but he sits back down. “I want you to be able to hear us! So we can all talk.”

“Hey, is that why you’re always shouting at everyone?” The Duke completely interrupts the conversation Aang is having with Zuko, looking excited that he’s figured something out. “Because you can’t hear how loud you’re being?”

“Duke, that’s rude.” Haru fixes the kid with a disapproving frown, but the little freedom fighter is completely unrepentant.

“It’s _The_ Duke,” he reminds Haru, and then turns back to Zuko, waiting for an answer.

Visibly uncomfortable, Zuko shrugs again. “I guess.” Now his voice sounds way quieter than usual, and as much as Sokka knows it isn’t the Duke’s fault for being a curious, clueless kid, he kinda wants to send the insensitive little twerp to his nonexistent room.

Thankfully, Katara of all people decides to save the day. “I’m sorry, Zuko,” she tells him sincerely. “I didn’t realize. It was rude of me to assume you weren’t listening.” The fire prince’s lips quirk up in a smile. The relief of having Katara actually sort of on his side for once seems to outweigh Zuko’s extreme discomfort, if only for a moment.

“It’s okay,” he tells Katara, and the rest of them, clearly emboldened by her apology. “It’s not a big deal. I’m used to it, I think. It’s been a few years.”

“Well, we should still all make sure we’re facing you when we talk. And also not talking over each other. Although that one I’m not optimistic about.” Sokka can’t help being honest as he looks around the circle, and he’s rewarded with a few laughs. “Although not whispering should be easy! We’ll just make all our secret plans beforehand.”

When he glances back at Zuko, the fire prince is taking a deep, steadying breath, like he’s about to throw himself over some invisible edge. “I can, um…I can teach you guys some signs if you want.”

Sokka blinks. “Signs?”

“Sign language. Deaf people in the Fire Nation use it to communicate. One of the soldiers on my ship had a Deaf brother and he taught me a few things…” Zuko trails off, then shakes his head. “It’s probably not really worth it to-”

“That sounds _so cool!”_ Aang’s face is split in a wide grin. “I want to learn another language! Say something! Say something, Zuko! Say something in it!”

Returning Aang’s grin, just a little, Zuko shrugs. “Sign, Aang. Sign something. I…I can if you want. What do you want to learn?”

“Well…well how do you do hi?”

Chuckling, Zuko shakes his head. “Aang…that’s just waving.”

“Oh. Well, what about, ‘Hi, my name is Zuko?’”

Obligingly, Zuko moves his hands, and the group watches, wide-eyed. He shows them the sign for “my”, for “name”, the letters that make up “Zuko.” He teaches each of them their own name, repeats the letters patiently, over and over, so even the Duke gets his after some practice. He shows them _water_ , and _fire_ , and _earth_ , and _air_ , which is really just _wind,_ because this signed language is a visual one, and air is so completely ephemeral.

They ask about _journey,_ and _Air Temple,_ and _sky bison,_ which Zuko does not know the sign for. “They haven’t been seen in a hundred years,” he points out, laughing. “I’m sure there used to be a sign, but no one uses it anymore.”

“We’ll make one!” Aang declares.

Rolling his eyes, Zuko nods, amusement on his face. “Good luck with that.” The fire prince is relaxed once more as he shows them, and nervously happy in a way that makes Sokka grin. Zuko clearly likes signing. He likes teaching them to sign. And the whole gang likes this new side of him. Even Katara and Haru, the most guarded by far, are leaning forward eagerly to watch each new twist and change of Zuko’s hands.

“You know a ton,” Teo marvels, as Zuko signs another spectacularly long sentence of the Duke’s. “You’re like, fluent?”

“No,” Zuko hastens to say, “no, I’m not. I learned while I was…traveling with my uncle. We both did. It was…” he looks at his hands. “It was nice.”

“And you can read lips, too?” Trust Katara to remember that little detail from way back when they started. For some reason, her brow is furrowed with concentration as she turns the idea over in her head.

“I mean, I can a little. I’m not that good at it.”

“When did you learn? How long did it take to learn? Could I learn?” The Duke is all but bouncing up and down as he fires the questions at Zuko.

“I mean, I’ve had three years to practice,” Zuko shrugs, smiling tentatively at the kid. “I’m sure you could do it though, if you practiced-”

“Three years?” Katara’s voice cuts through Zuko’s. He looks over at her, clearly unsure how to place her tone. That’s okay. Sokka can’t figure out what she’s getting at, either. “And you started practicing when you lost your hearing. Because of the injury.”

Zuko’s hand rises to his face, to touch the outer edge of the scar, as if he needs to be reminded that it’s still there. “Uh…yeah. I mean I guess…yeah.”

“You were…you were really young when you got hurt.” Sokka can place what Katara’s voice sounds like. It sounds like _concern._ He just thinks he’s never heard it directed at Zuko before. Zuko, who right now, somehow looks even more uncomfortable.

“I mean…I, um, I guess. I was thirteen.”

“Hell of a training accident, huh?” Toph’s voice comes from off to the side, and Sokka has no trouble placing her tone. It’s positively poisonous, and Sokka does _not_ understand why. He doesn’t really need to, because the way Zuko flinches is enough to piss him off, even without an explanation.

“Cut it out, Toph.” Sokka frowns at her, even while knowing it’ll mean nothing. “Zuko’s teaching us about something really cool. The, the signing thing is sick,” he tells Zuko, trying to put a smile back on the firebender’s face.

“Well I hate it, and I think you should stop.”

Stunned, the whole group turns to Toph. Sokka hopes it’s just a badly told joke, but the diminutive earthbender is scowling fit to kill, and she _has_ been suspiciously silent the whole time. Seeing her glowering face, Zuko swallows hard.

“Toph, don’t be rude,” Katara chides, and at least she’s sticking up for Zuko. Sokka tries to feel positive about it. It’s not working, because Toph’s glare deepens, and Zuko looks freaked out about it, and Tui and _La,_ Sokka hates it when the girls fight.

“I’m not being rude I’m being _honest._ I hate it, and I want you to stop.”

Biting his lip, Zuko makes an attempt at a smile. “I-I understand. We’ll stop.”

“But we were having so much fun.” Aang looks downcast, and that just fires Katara up. It’s a matter of moments before the two girls are yelling at each other, and Zuko looks trapped and miserable and almost afraid.

It culminates with Toph yelling and storming off, as per usual, and Katara sitting there and steaming, as per usual. What’s unusual is Haru, Teo, the Duke, and Zuko watching it happen with wide eyes. The girls fight sometimes. Aang and Sokka are used to it. They don’t like, however, the looks from the other boys. It feels private, a less-fun part of their little group that no one else needs to know about. They’re supposed to present a united front to the world, and here Toph is, drawing a line down the middle.

Sighing, Sokka pushes himself wearily to his feet. “I’ll go talk to her,” he says, directing it to everyone and no one.

To say he’s floored when Zuko clears his throat is an understatement. “Actually, um, can I go talk to her?”

Their fire prince, as it turns out, is full of surprises. “I guess, yeah.” Sokka shrugs. “Be my guest.”

“You don’t have to do that,” Aang tells him, brow crinkling. “She was pretty mean about your signing.”

“It’s all right,” Zuko reassures him. “I’m the one that upset her. Just let me see if I can…” he trails off, shrugs, and moves off after Toph.

“Well, uh, good luck to him, I guess,” Sokka mutters to the others disbelievingly. There are shrugs all around, as they watch the firebender disappear deeper into the temple. Good luck to him. Sokka means it. If Zuko can tame Toph, the only obstacle left is Katara.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi y'all! As I'm sure you noticed, this chapter is a lot about hard of hearing Zuko (with some light angst ofc). A few things about that, not that anyone asked...  
> It is Disability Pride Month! And Deaf and hard of hearing people do not generally identify with the disabled label, but I do a lot of work with people who do use that label so Pride Month is important to me. :)   
> And because of hard of hearing friends and my ASL + Deaf culture classes, Deaf and hard of hearing culture is also really important to me! Obviously Zuko would not be using American Sign Language, but it's the only signed language I have familiarity with, so while I'm not going to talk about it terribly specifically, that is what Zuko's signing is based on.  
> So that's all. Hope you guys enjoy, and if anyone wants to chat about ASL I would be super happy to do that! And that's enough for now okay


	10. Chapter 10

“Hey.”

The little earthbender is sitting, terrifying, on a crumbling windowsill in one of the upside-down temples. Wincing, Zuko wonders if she can sense how far a fall it is from where she’s dangling her feet. Everything he’s learned from the way he was raised demands he yank her backwards and chew her out for taking such a stupid risk. Everything he’s learned about Toph demands that he leave her right where she is and don’t say a word about it.

Zuko settles somewhere in the middle. “Hey,” he tries again, “do you want to come talk to me?” Without turning, Toph says something into the void in front of her, and Zuko plays his trump card. “I can’t hear you when you’re facing away.”

When Toph turns away, she’s halfway through a demonstrative eye roll, but she does look at least a little guilty. She hops down from the window ledge, and Zuko breathes a quiet sigh of relief. “I was fine up there,” she says, scowling, and he wonders if she _felt_ the breath leave his lungs, or just predicted his response.

She probably had been fine. Didn’t mean it wasn’t scary.

Shrugging, Zuko sits down on the slender stone ledge in the corner that probably once served as a bed. It’s the only furniture in the room, perhaps because the inhabitants were monks, or perhaps because whatever else was left didn’t survive the empty years. After a moment of standing, arms crossed, and glaring at him, Toph relents and sits down beside him.

“Why’d you get so mad at me earlier?”

Toph is always so blunt, Zuko figures she’d probably appreciate the question asked flat out. He doesn’t like the needy edge to the question, the way it makes him sound like an insecure kid, but he knows it was him that pissed her off, and he wants to know why. He _needs_ to know why – Toph was his first real ally, and for once he hadn’t snapped or yelled or gotten in a fight. Or, maybe he’d snapped a few times, and maybe he’d yelled a few times, but none of that had sent her storming off. So what was it, then? He waits on Toph’s answer, trying not to look as though he’s hanging on her every word.

“I wasn’t mad at _you,”_ Toph starts, still staring straight ahead of her. “I just didn’t like…the whole sign language thing you were doing.”

Zuko tips his head. “Why not?”

“Because I can’t see it.” Toph shrugs. Oh. It’s as simple as that. The relief makes Zuko weak in the knees. She’s not truly angry with him, after all. He didn’t realize until just now how anxious he was about it, how his chest had tightened at the idea that he’d done something _wrong_ and hadn’t even known what. Now the release feels almost heavenly.

Oblivious to the effect her words have on him, the little earthbender keeps talking. “My sensing isn’t…it’s just not that good. That precise, anyway. Or like, a constant feedback thing. Everyone forgets sometimes, because I can do almost everything – and I am fine!” Now she’s turning to him, scowling, daring him to call her incompetent, or worse, incomplete. For now Zuko stays quiet, waiting, and as he’d hoped, Toph fills the silence herself. Returning her blank gaze to the floor, Toph swings her feet, and when she speaks again, her voice is small. Zuko’s glad she’s on his hearing side. “It’s just, there are some things I can’t do, or, or sense. Everyone forgets that. And I guess…I mean it’s not like I want to remind them. I can’t sense the way you’re moving your hands. And I don’t like that there’s just going to be…another thing I can’t…you know. Get.” She waves a hand, frustrated by her inability to explain.

“I understand.”

Toph turns to him, and the sight of her small, grateful face tilted up his way tugs at Zuko’s chest. “Yeah?”

“Yeah. I mean, that’s kinda how I feel when people whisper, or when all you guys talk at once. And whenever I ask people what they said, and they say, ‘Oh, nothing,’ and probably it is nothing, but…I still hate it.” Zuko _hates_ that, hates it more than maybe anything, feeling like he’s missing parts of every interaction.

“Oh. Yeah. People forget, I guess. They don’t think about it.”

“Yeah. I didn’t think about it today. I’m sorry.”

Toph shrugs. “’S fine.”

“I, um…” Zuko’s voice and his courage fade, but he forces the words out. “It’s not just, um, my ear. I, uh, can’t see too well. Out of my left eye.”

“Really?”

Zuko has to smile at Toph’s frank wonderment. “Yeah. Really.”

“Man. Doesn’t stop us, does it?”

Zuko bites his lip hard, but it doesn’t stop the big dorky smile from spreading across his face. “No, doesn’t stop us.” He loves that. He loves being part of an _us._

The two sit quietly for a moment, just thinking. Taking a deep breath, Zuko decides to push Toph a little. “You know, I can still teach you some things.”

Suspiciously, Toph flicks her eyes at him. “How?”

“Put your hand on mine.” Toph obliges, and Zuko does the letters for her, carefully. “That’s T, O, P, H.”

Nose wrinkling, Toph shakes her head. “I don’t know what that means.”

Incredulous, Zuko chuckles. “That’s your name! Those are the letters of your name.”

“Don’t laugh at me!” Toph is back to scowling, snatching her hands back, and Zuko gulps. “It’s not my fault no one ever taught me to read!”

Mouth working as he tries to come up with the words, Zuko shakes his head, trying to keep calm while knowing the earthbender can feel his rising heart rate. “I’m-I’m sorry, Toph!” His voice comes out hostile, defensive – why does he always _do_ that? – and he has to stop and swallow hard. “I didn’t…I wasn’t laughing at you. I was just surprised. I’m sorry.”

Grunting, Toph fixes him with a narrow, distrustful look. “Fine,” she acquiesces, and the fragile peace between them is restored. The tension in Zuko’s shoulders relaxes. “And I’m…I’m sorry I snapped at you. Both times. Just now, and…you know, before. With the others. Wasn’t fair.”

“It’s all right-”

“Is _not._ You don’t like being yelled at. Your heart goes crazy every time, even when you’re yelling back.”

The whole human-lie-detector thing is really working against his tough guy image. Ducking his head, Zuko nods into his chest. “Yeah,” he admits quietly. “Guess that’s true.”

After another minute of calm passes, Zuko, still shaky, is rocked to his core when he feels Toph’s small, cool hand creeping back over his. “Will you…will you show me again?”

A warm feeling blooms in Zuko’s chest, and he smiles, soft and real and quietly happy. It’s safe to smile like that in this room where no one can see him, and he revels for a second in his invulnerable vulnerability. “Yeah. Yeah, I’ll show you.” He forms the first letter carefully with his right hand. “T. That’s the ‘tuh’ sound.”

Toph’s face is creased with concentration as her hands move over every inch of his fingers. “Okay.”

“O. That’s the ‘oh’ sound.”

Another fierce, focused pause. “Okay.”

“Now, the end of your name is a little unusual. This is P, and usually it makes a ‘puh’ sound.” Dutifully, Toph learns the shape, and waits for him to explain. “When you put P and H – this is H – side by side, you get ‘fuh’. Otherwise, h sounds like ‘huh’.”

Brow wrinkling, Toph tries to process all that. “Okay. But my name is T, O, P, H?”

“Yep.”

Taking her hands off Zuko’s, Toph forms the letters herself, with Zuko making a few minor corrections where she gets it wrong. It takes mere moments, and then she shapes the letters out flawlessly. T, O, P, H.

“That’s perfect, Toph. That’s it.”

T, O, P, H. Toph stares blankly down at her hand as it flickers through the letters, seemingly lost in thought. When she looks up at Zuko again, she has this tiny, sincere smile that’s a thousand times more wrenchingly sweet than her usual lawless grin. She looks so quietly pleased, so surprised, so…man, Zuko doesn’t know the word, but it’s positive. It’s hopeful. It’s good _._

“No one ever taught me how to spell my name,” she says softly, still spelling it in one hand, almost compulsively.

Zuko shrugs, not sure what to say. He’s also looking at his feet now, so he’s completely unprepared when Toph almost knocks him over with the force of her hug. “Thank you!” She yells it, delightedly, right into his burnt ear, noisy enough that he can hear her loud and clear. At first, the hug, so abrupt and almost violent, makes Zuko tense, but after a second or two passes he chuckles and hugs her back awkwardly, his arms pinned to his chest by her powerful grip.

“Yeah. No problem, Toph.”

When they rejoin the group, Toph’s fight with Katara is completely forgotten, something that leaves Aang and Sokka scratching their heads. “Nice one,” Sokka mouths to Zuko, and the firebender ducks his head awkwardly, shrugs. He doesn’t know how to respond to being treated as one of the group, so he just turns back to Toph, who is beaming as she shows off her new skills. She spells her name for all of them, over and over, and her obvious delight at the revelation has the whole group directing fond smiles Zuko’s way. Even Haru, who has been pretty vocal about his distrust of firebenders. Even Katara, who has been the most vocal of all!

“You did great, man,” Sokka tells him, going so far as to slap Zuko on the back, and he can’t even reply, is left just blinking after the Water Tribe warrior, who keeps walking like it’s nothing, apparently trying to figure out the rudest word he can teach Toph using only the letters in each of their names. It’s dumb and funny and it makes Zuko smile.

It feels like everything is making him smile, lately. Like the fire that comes so easily to him when they need to cook dinner, and the memory of the dragons. The way that Aang plunks down next to him over their food, chattering a mile a minute about the exercises that Zuko had showed him today. On his other side, Sokka is trying to tell some joke to Haru and Teo, except that he doesn’t remember anything except that the punchline has something to do with a whale. The laughter that comes is more directed at Sokka than his joke, but the warrior doesn’t seem to mind. As always, he’s cheerful, he’s loud and seemingly fearless, and any time there’s any sign of conflict, he does his level best to smooth it over. He does pretty well, too, and Zuko wonders how many times Sokka gentled some animosity directed at him. He thinks probably a fair amount, over the past few days. His dark face lit up by fire, bright mischievous eyes, his warrior’s braid trailing down his back…Sokka’s a good friend to have, Zuko thinks, with a tug in his chest. A good friend to have on his side. Toph again, and Aang after the visit to the Sun Warriors, and somewhere along the way, Sokka too. It’s enough to make Zuko’s eyes sting in that telltale, embarrassing way that means if he lets it happen, there might be tears in his eyes.

And when Sokka pulls him off to the side and asks about Boiling Rock, Zuko knows it isn’t a casual question. A child could tell that Sokka is planning to go after his father – some insidious, gnawing guilt following the invasion has clearly been working on him for days now. Zuko understands that drive, the need to restore yourself, or an image of yourself that you can live with. He tells Sokka the name and resolves to play dumb until the others notice the warrior missing.

Except then, he spends the rest of the night watching them all. They’re more considerate of him than ever, and he can hear all their conversation, the little nuances of the way they are with each other. A heavy truth makes a pit in his stomach. Sokka thinks of himself as nonessential – helpful, certainly, but not a bender. Not crucial to Aang’s training, given his lack of ability. The guy thinks that he can slip away, and rescue his father, and even if he fails, the group will go on without him.

Problem is, Zuko just doesn’t think that’s true.

Besides Haru, who is a recent, tentative addition, and Zuko himself, who is certainly not a candidate for leader, Sokka is the oldest. Despite his penchant for pointless jokes, he’s actually kind of the serious one – the one that keeps them on track, that makes the plans and maps their routes and takes stock of how much food they have, how much they need, and if they’re all getting enough to eat. It’s easy to miss if you aren’t looking for it. And it’s essential.

The group can’t possibly go on without Sokka, and, Zuko realizes with a funny drop in his stomach, he wouldn’t want to. Not just that the gang wouldn’t want to – _Zuko_ wouldn’t want to leave behind Sokka, who for so long Zuko only thought of as an annoying, loudmouth nonbender. It turns out he’s actually kind of hilarious. And smarter than he acts. And _talented_ with that incredibly cool sword he brags about forging himself. And there’s no way that Zuko is going to let this fierce and funny and steadfastly kind teenager get utterly crushed in a Fire Nation prison. With a sinking feeling, Zuko realizes that there’s something there. There’s something there, in the way he feels about Sokka, something in the protective, almost reverent way he watches the other teenager charm the kids around the fire. Best…best not think about that now. Or ever. Best only think about the future, which is…which is Sokka trying to break into, and then out of, Boiling Rock.

Boiling Rock is impossible to escape. It’s impossible! But it was also supposed to be impossible to break into the Northern Water Tribe. It was supposed to be impossible to breach the Fire Lord’s imperial palace, even on the day of black sun. Impossible to find the avatar, to rescue him from Zuko’s ship, to escape the Dai Li, to evade Azula half a dozen times. It seems both Zuko and the Avatar have made a habit of doing impossible things, and Zuko is willing to bet that on the Avatar’s end, no small amount of that ingenuity has come from the goofy, lanky, unassuming Water Tribe teen sitting next to him.

So the next morning, when Sokka climbs up on Appa’s saddle, Zuko is waiting. And when Sokka tells him to get lost, Zuko refuses. He knows he won’t win the real battle – there’s no way that Sokka will stay – but he’s sure as shit not letting the stubborn fool go alone.

The war balloon is right where he left it a few days ago. That handful of days feels like a lifetime, now, as Sokka and Zuko lay out the balloon and climb into the basket. “I helped design this, you know,” Sokka confides, shaking his head at the improbability of the flying contraption.

“Really?” Zuko looks around as the balloon fills with hot air. The careful construction, the precision of the instrument, and at the same time, the ludicrousness of it. Fighting a war from a balloon. A _balloon!_ A child’s toy turned tactical. Yeah, that streak of genius-crazy sounds like Sokka. He smiles at the guy, tentatively, and then bigger, when Sokka smiles back.

“Yeah, really.”

“Well. Nice one.”

Sokka looks pleased, even proud, and, seeing that smile, even knowing they’re headed into the heart of the Fire Nation, toward his country’s most inescapable prison, Zuko can’t help but feel a little hopeful.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> YAY new chapter :) I hope it was as fun to read as it was to write! As always I would love to read your thoughts, reactions, critiques, hopes and dreams in the comments so leave them for me and I will certainly respond! 
> 
> A quick side note - Zuko uses ASL because I wanted to include some cultural Deafness on his part. A:TLA draws heavily on Asian and Native cultures, with the Fire Nation specifically drawing on Japan. I don't know enough about JSL to write Zuko using it, nor would I know how to spell/sign Toph's name. I went with Anglicized signing and spelling because I wanted to include the Deaf representation, but I understand how that decision could be problematic and am happy to talk about it in the comments if you have thoughts or concerns!
> 
> Also our boys are headed into Boiling Rock and what was supposed to be like 4 chapters of that craziness may turn into like...8. Stay tuned folks! I have a lot to say.
> 
> Anyway hope y'all enjoyed!


	11. Chapter 11

It’s not like Sokka to take off without a plan, but the guilt has been driving him too crazy to care. Every time he looks at his friends, he can name a handful of loved ones that each of them lost when the invasion force was captured. After Sokka’s poor leadership condemned all those people who put their faith in him. The memory of what Zuko was like after his time with the Rhinos, the memory of Haru’s broken, defeated father after his months in prison…

It’s too much to contemplate, after spending three years missing Hakoda. It’s selfish, sure, to focus on his father, but Sokka just knows that if he had some advice from his dad, if he could talk to Hakoda about some things, he could make better plans. Better yet, he could stop making plans, and someone who actually knows what they’re _doing_ could be in charge for once. Sokka wouldn’t keep making stupid mistakes. Sokka wouldn’t keep getting people hurt. 

So that’s how he ends up in a war balloon with the disgraced crown prince of the Fire Nation, on their way to break into a maximum-security prison. What a world. What an insane, upside-down world they’re living in. Shaking his head, he aims a crooked grin at Zuko, who responds with a tentative smile of his own. It’s the first time they’ve been alone together, and Sokka is determined that if nothing else, he’s going to get that guarded look off the fire prince’s face. They could have fun together, right? This could be fun.

“So tell me about this prison.” Sokka leans back against the basket. Right. They’re headed to a prison. Probably this won’t be _fun,_ but they can still make conversation. Making a face, Zuko aims another blast of fire into the tank, wasting time before he has to answer.

“It’s…well, it’s called Boiling Rock because it’s on an island in the middle of a volcano. The lake itself is just water, but there’s lava bubbling up underneath that means the lake itself is always literally boiling. It’s impossible to escape from. Um, at least, no one ever has before.”

Sokka takes a moment to envision the prison Zuko’s described. It’s not a promising image, but he’s not giving up yet. “How do they get people in and out, though?”

“There’s a tram, I think, that takes people across, but it’s the most heavily guarded part of the prison, and I’m sure there are keys or codes or something to make it harder to take over.” Zuko frowns just thinking about it, and Sokka’s get-Zuko-to-smile mission is really not going the way he had hoped it would.

“Damn.” Sokka shakes his head. “Your people are really good at this stuff. The whole, uh, war and conquering thing. Prisons.” He waves an expansive hand.

Zuko ducks his head. “Yeah, I…I guess. Not…not _everyone_ is like that.”

“Hey – sorry.” A stab of guilt in Sokka’s stomach at the downcast look on Zuko’s face. “I know you’ve changed.”

Zuko smiles humorlessly. “Don’t know if you can really count me out, though, after everything I’ve done.” Sokka wants to argue but he’s not sure how. Zuko just looks pained. “I was actually talking about, um, my uncle.” He studies his hands as he says it, so Sokka figures it’s a sensitive subject.

“Your uncle does seem like a really good guy.”

Zuko smiles at his hands. “He is.” The smile falls. “And I…” He shakes his head. “Sorry. It doesn’t matter.”

“I’m sure wherever he is, he’s proud of you,” Sokka tries, but it doesn’t seem to help. “You joined us! You did the right thing, even though I’m sure it was really, really hard to leave everything behind.”

A mirthless laugh from Zuko. “Trust me, I wasn’t leaving much behind. And the only people I did care about I…really let down.”

“I’m sure your uncle-”

“Not just my uncle. My…betrothed. Mai.”

Sokka can’t help his eyebrows shooting up. “The goth girl? With the knives?”

There’s that true, fond Zuko smile that Sokka’s come to crave. Maybe it’s not directed at Sokka himself, but he’ll settle. “Yeah, that’s her. She’s…I know how she seems, when you meet her, but she’s always been a really, really good friend to me.”

It’s a weird way to describe his girlfriend, but Sokka’s not going to criticize the firebender right now. “I’ve, um, I’ve lost people, too,” he offers tentatively. “I just mean – I guess I know what it’s like, kind of. You blame yourself, even when it’s not your fault.”

“Katara mentioned that your mother was killed by the Fire Nation.” Another guilty, wounded look from Zuko. “I’m so sorry.”

“Yeah.” Sokka swallows. “That was a long time ago, though. And not, like. Your fault.” Zuko shrugs. “I actually meant, um…” he stumbles over the words. “My first, ah, my first girlfriend turned into the moon.”

Sokka watches Zuko’s shocked expression turn upward, as if they’ll see the moon – _Yue_ – hovering above them in the clear blue sky. “That’s…rough, buddy,” Zuko offers awkwardly, and Sokka stares at him for a moment.

Then, unexpectedly, he snickers. The awkwardness of the comment, of their whole conversation, just pushes him over the edge, and so he laughs, and Zuko stares at him, and then, after a second, the firebender starts laughing too.

It’s really nice to laugh with him. Sokka spends the rest of the journey trying to get Zuko to laugh again, and every time he succeeds he feels like cheering. Especially because they only have a few more precious hours before they reach Boiling Rock. Once inside the crater, the balloon descends alarmingly quickly. It’s a harrowing thing, getting all the way into the island so they don’t just broil alive in the steaming water, but at least it makes some decisions easier. Onshore, Sokka immediately shoves the bright red war balloon into the water.

“What are you _doing?”_ hisses Zuko, sounding like he’s trying to decide between shock and fury. Besides glaring at Sokka, he’s scanning the shoreline, making sure no one’s coming up behind them. It is probably a good thing that there are two of them. Sokka’s suddenly really, really glad that Zuko came along.

“We can’t use it to escape.” Sokka shrugs. He didn’t make a plan coming in, but now that he sees the layout of the building, a hundred different little ideas are coming to mind. Ways to get in, and, worked backwards, ways that they could possibly get out. For the first time since the invasion, he feels his old confidence coming back. Yes, yes, this is right where he needs to be.

And right who he needs by his side, apparently. Zuko saves his butt about a hundred times before they even run into another person. He knows the standard guard rotation patterns, and when it’s safe to creep along the outside of the prison. The doors to the shore of the lake are miraculously unguarded, even unlocked, and Sokka marvels at their luck, but Zuko shakes his head grimly. “Don’t get excited. It’s because they know there’s no way to escape from here.”

“Oh.” That feels a little bit less lucky.

The ground floor is apparently where all the guards are housed and fed, so it takes some skulking around, but the two find a closet full of spare uniforms. Those nerve-wracking moments when they’re creeping around the dark prison in their obvious street clothes are enough to _almost_ make Sokka regret coming. Almost.

But then they find the closet of uniforms, and Sokka gets his confidence back. They’re here. They’re here, and Sokka has sunk their only way out into a boiling lake, so they’d better make something of it while they can. Determined not to waste a moment, Sokka strips to his underwear and starts digging through piles of guard gear. Beside him, Zuko makes a strangled, choked off sound, and when Sokka glances over, alarmed, he finds the Fire Nation teen just staring at him. Zuko’s cheeks are bright red.

Rolling his eyes, Sokka shakes his head at Zuko’s wide eyes, his furious blush. “Don’t be such a prude. C’mon, get changed.”

Nodding uncertainly, Zuko pulls his tunic up over his head and then goes looking for a shirt, apparently not ready to waltz around in his undies like Sokka. Really, Zuko should be more ready than anyone to show some skin – the guy is seriously toned – but instead he yanks a guard tunic down over his head as quick as he can. Sokka’s not looking, he’s _not,_ except that he kind of is, and finds himself disappointed when Zuko covers up so fast. Oh well. Now he catches himself hoping that someday, the two of them are close enough friends that Sokka can tease the guy, just a little, over how secretly _prim_ he is.

Of course, about three minutes later, Zuko’s stuffy propriety becomes useful, even essential, as he makes what feels like fifteen different adjustments on Sokka’s uniform. It’s not like the Water Tribe, where everyone makes their own warrior’s wear after the same few patterns and they’re mostly related by color scheme. This is a whole _thing,_ with the tunic a certain length and the armor placed just so, and cords lined up and tied with a special knot, and a hundred other details Sokka can’t keep track of. Mostly, all he can keep track of are Zuko’s careful fingers moving and adjusting and always coming _just_ shy of actually touching Sokka.

Well. That’s something to think about another time.

For now, he dons the funny metal helmet and listens while Zuko teaches him a few basic rules. “Say you’re from the colonies,” Zuko advises, when the list of things to remember grows unreasonably long, and Sokka can see how hesitant he is even through the headdress. Clearly, the fire prince is having some serious qualms about their mission here.

“I can do this,” Sokka insists, and Zuko nods, still too slowly. “I have to.” He fixes his face into a determined expression and just _dares_ Zuko to tell him that he can’t.

Instead, the firebender smiles, just a little. “ _We_ can do this,” he offers tentatively, and Sokka catches himself smiling back, even through fear and doubt.

“Damn right.”

He doesn’t like that Zuko’s risking everything here with him, even though it makes sense, even though he needs the backup, even though until just over a week ago, this guy was his mortal enemy. Something feels wrong about leading Zuko into this massive metal building, looking like a stranger in his pointy red costume. Sokka promised he wouldn’t leave Zuko, didn’t he? This isn’t, well, it’s not _leaving,_ but it’s not exactly taking care of the guy, either. He sort of made it sound like he wouldn’t put Zuko through crazy dangerous shit like the Rough Rhinos again. And here he is, making the fire prince, a wanted runaway, break into a maximum-security prison.

But there’s no time for doubts, when they’re already here and their only way out is sunk fifty feet deep in boiling water. Sokka takes a deep breath and rethinks.

This isn’t leaving, or coercion, or endangerment. This is a crucial mission. Sokka doesn’t have time to worry about it, and really, Zuko, with his stiff, proper upbringing, is probably in much better shape than Sokka, who, as per usual, is flying by the seat of his pants. Anyway, there’s no time to think about any of that now. Sokka has to focus on finding Hakoda.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And so it begins! By it I mean Boiling Rock which at this rate will be fifteen chapters long...oops!
> 
> Please hmu in the comments I love hearing y'all's thoughts :)


	12. Chapter 12

For years, Zuko has heard stories of Boiling Rock. It’s one of the Fire Nation’s great accomplishments; their unbreachable prison. War prisoners were sent there, heads of state who were to be made examples of. Political prisoners found their place here, too – those who threatened Ozai’s iron grip on the Fire Nation or the Earth Kingdom. In her vicious moods, Azula had liked telling Zuko that that’s where their mother was, or that Zuko himself would end up there someday as a sad, unwanted castoff. The memory of those words, in her childish, lilting tone, still makes Zuko shiver.

Especially because, in a twisted way, she’s right. Here Zuko is, at Boiling Rock, and though he left voluntarily, he’s certainly unwanted. After he mopes for a second, Zuko allows himself a smile. He may be at Boiling Rock, but he has little doubt that Azula envisioned him as a prisoner, not a vigilante breaking in disguised as a guard to free prisoners.

As he moves through the red-lit metal halls, Zuko relaxes a little. With every guard he meets, he grows less worried about the goofy, impulsive Water Tribe warrior that’s wandering through different crowds somewhere in the prison. Perhaps there was a time when Boiling Rock was run by hardened soldiers, but the war has sucked all those men across the ocean and into the endless campaign against the Earth Kingdom. Now, even the senior guards fail to adhere to protocol. It’s lax to the point where it’s suspicious that Zuko _does_ adhere to protocol, leaving his helmet on when he eats. The other guards dismiss it without too much fuss, but Zuko hopes they aren’t planning on staying here too long. It’s a pain in the ass, trying to wedge a spoon through the thin opening in his helmet. Not just that, but for the first time in maybe his entire life, Zuko feels actually overheated. It’s all the steam in the air. Dry heat is fine, familiar, a welcome feeling. This wet heat is oppressive and makes breathing all but impossible.

Indeed, the entire prison seems designed to make its occupants as miserable as can be. Obviously, those who designed it wanted the prisoners to suffer, but the itching and sweating and general malaise extends to the guards, as well. Beneath the camaraderie and joking, there’s a simmering tension, a discontent, a sense that there’s anger just below the surface. Having grown up around Ozai, knowing that an angry outburst was a very real threat, Zuko doesn’t… _love_ having all these frustrated people around him. He feels his own temper rise in response, and figures the whole thing is probably a hideously vicious cycle. Angry guards, angry prisoners, and a huge imbalance of power. Not a recipe for success. Everyone is sweaty, annoyed, uncomfortable, and perpetually on edge. There’s nothing green or living anywhere, not even a Fire Nation flag to satisfy a bored eye. It’s just cement floors and steel walls and the monotony of a space designed solely to hold as many inmates as possible. Uneasily, he wonders what happens when all that anger boils over.

Zuko shakes himself. Now isn’t a time to dwell on the bleak surroundings. Now is a time to get some information, so they can focus everything they have on trying to get out of here alive. He’s on duty in the yard, which is a flat, gray square exactly like every other flat, gray square, except that this part has the sky above it. Honestly, Zuko would rather be inside, where the air is just a little bit less thick, but apparently the prisoners need to feel the sun. As if the heat from the steam in the air isn’t enough. He wants to go stand near Sokka, if only for the comfort of having an ally nearby, but they’ll gather more information if they talk to different people, so he stays where he is across the yard, trying to find something to look at in the featureless expanse.

The answer to Zuko’s boredom comes quickly, as guards and inmates alike flock to the source of sudden shouting in the corner of the courtyard. There’s a prisoner, a big one, and a guard is whipping fire at him, taunting him. Zuko’s blood boils, seeing the guard, in a Fire Nation uniform, act like this. Even if the guy is in here for _murder,_ it doesn’t excuse the abuse of power. He’s about to step forward when there’s a familiar voice from beside him. Sokka’s found him and is reminding him that as outraged as he might be, this just isn’t the time. The hand on his arm is the only thing that stops him from stepping in, and Zuko has the presence of mind to marvel, just a little, at how Sokka _,_ for once, is acting as the voice of reason.

Then, of course, Sokka is pulled away by the bullying guard, and Zuko is on his own. On his own again. That’s okay. He can get information on his own, can interact with the other guards on his own. He’s certainly better off than the Water Tribe warrior – Zuko knows way more about the Fire Nation, and Fire Nation culture, after all. He still feels utterly hopeless as he watches his ally disappear. 

As casually he can, Zuko approaches a little trio of guards chatting in the corner. Every so often one of them will cast a lazy glance over the yard, where the prisoners are mostly milling around aimlessly. Zuko supposes there isn’t much need for vigilance on the inescapable island but their blatant carelessness still makes him uncomfortable. He’s never been a good liar, so he decides he may as well use his discomfort to his advantage.

“Shouldn’t, uh, shouldn’t we be watching them?”

Glancing over, the guards exchange looks, roll their eyes. They’re the last dregs of those who weren’t sent to war – too old or too young, out of shape, wounded. Not exactly an impressive bunch, but then, neither is Zuko. “Look, kid.” One of them claps him on the shoulder, a skinny beanpole of a man with a nasally voice. “You know it’s impossible to escape from Boiling Rock, right?”

“Well…well, yeah.”

“So why do we need to watch the prisoners all the time?”

“I just…” Zuko tries to seem normal, new guard nervous, and less completely preoccupied by the fact that there are three of them and one of him. “I just thought…I don’t know, aren’t there dangerous inmates here?”

This earns an approving nod from a squat little man who’s missing an eye and what looks like most of his teeth. “Most dangerous prisoners in the Fire Nation housed here,” he agrees importantly. “We’re the only things between them and the rest of civilized society.”

Beanpole snorts. “Us and a boiling lake, you mean.” Toothless rolls his eyes.

“What…what kind of prisoners get sent here?”

The third man snorts and casts a smirk at the other two. He’s big, muscular, and is not bothering to wear his helmet, even though they’re out in the yard where any prisoner could jump him. “Where you from, kid?”

“I’m, um, I’m from the colonies. I was just, just transferred yesterday.”

The stammering is probably good for his cover, but it still makes Zuko flush under the cover of his mask. Tough Guy grunts. “Around here, we get war prisoners, murderers, traitors…real savages, these guys.” He waves a hand that encompasses the yard. It’d be a more impressive point if the yard weren’t full of defeated, sweaty men who mostly just sit or stand and stare at the walls. Zuko tries to look intimidated. “You best watch yourself, understand? No better way for an inmate to prove themselves than tangling with a guard, and you’re fresh meat.” His nose wrinkles as he looks Zuko up and down. “Small guy, too. How old are you, anyway?”

“Nineteen!”

“And I’m the Earth King,” snarks Beanpole.

“Don’t worry, kid.” Toothless slaps him on the back and almost knocks Zuko over with the force of the blow. “Plenty have lied to get into the army earlier than their time. What brings you here, though? Why no fancy assignment on the front lines?” He leans in, peering through the eye holds in Zuko’s helmet, and the firebender has to shy away. “You a half-breed?”

“Yes,” Zuko grits out, the very word making his hackles rise. It’s stupid, _stupid_ trying to divide people that way. Fire Nation propaganda that’s never made any sense to him. It’s a good cover, though. “I…I am.”

“Nothing to be ashamed of!” Beanpole jerks a thumb at Tough Guy. “Zih Lan here is a half breed too.”

Uneasily, Zuko nods, wanting to squirm under Tough Guy’s critical gaze. “You’ll be fine, kid,” he finally booms out roughly, apparently feeling some kind of camaraderie with the new guard who supposedly shares his heritage.

Deciding to press his advantage, Zuko clears his throat and goes for it. “Are there…are there any Water Tribe prisoners around?”

Brows around the circle furrow. Beanpole speaks up first. “Now why would you ask that?”

“On, on the way over, my ship was attacked by Water Tribe pirates. I was just wondering if any of them might’ve ended up here. Or their countrymen, at least.”

“Water Tribe pirates on the way from the Earth Kingdom to here?” Tough Guy shakes his head. “That’s farther north than I’ve ever heard of them traveling.” Zuko’s stomach plummets, and he lets his eyes fall shut, wondering if they’ll unmask him here, or take him to a cell to interrogate him, or –

“Bastards get bolder all the time.” Tough Guy spits. “I’m sure your crew handled them?”

“Oh.” Zuko bobs his head in frantic agreement. “Oh, y-yeah, we drove them off. Lost a few men, though.” He tacks it on as a bold addition and prays it’s worth it. “A friend of mine. And when we landed, we heard about this, this invasion-”

“The fucking invasion.” Toothless shakes his head and Beanpole laughs, but Tough Guy looks furious, fit to kill. “No, we didn’t get any of those guys. If we do, though. Man, if we do…”

Tough Guy is shaking his head and muttering darkly, pounding his fist into his other palm, but Zuko’s already tuned out. None of the invaders. None of them. Not Sokka’s father, then, nor even any of the others as a sort of consolation prize. This won’t be easy news for his friend to swallow. All this way for nothing, and now they’re trapped here.

Tough Guy invites Zuko to sit with him and the others at lunch, but they make a few too many teasing grabs for his helmet, so he makes an excuse about finding a fellow recruit and scans the dining hall frantically for Sokka. The Water Tribe warrior is nowhere to be seen, so Zuko takes a risk and darts out of the hall early, creeping up to the balcony where he and Sokka had established their meeting place that morning. When he arrives, Zuko can see the other teenager already knows. Sokka sits crumpled against the wall of the prison, head in his hands. His helmet is on the floor by his feet, so Zuko can see the twisted-up look on his face, his squeezed-shut eyes, and the stubborn tears that are insistently seeping out of Sokka’s eyes.

It takes Zuko’s breath away, seeing Sokka like this. It _hurts,_ somewhere in his stomach. There’s this urgent, burning anxiousness in him, and he feels this insane urge to, to grab Sokka, and hug him, and fix whatever is making him cry –

No, no, no, no, no.

Zuko’s gotta sort himself the _fuck_ out.

Before the firebender can even _think_ about speaking to Sokka he’s got to sort himself out. He ducks back into the prison and takes a few grounding breaths. Okay. Okay, Sokka’s upset. Clearly, the warrior has no problem being vulnerable and that’s…that’s something, that’s really something. For a second Zuko imagines what it would be like to openly cry about something and the automatic fear and tension that sweeps over him stops him in his tracks. Growing up, crying out of sadness or frustration would have earned him only disgust and maybe a lecture, if his father had the time. He’s been raised to think that crying like that is unmanly. Pathetic.

Somehow, seeing that raw emotion on Sokka’s face doesn’t seem that way at all, it just seems honest, and real, and almost…brave.

There’s also the small matter of the feelings that rose up in Zuko’s throat and threatened to choke him, just now and also, well, also last night, when Sokka turned to him, white teeth flashing in his dark face, wearing nothing but a pair of, um, a pair of underwear. There’s that…image, which hasn’t left Zuko’s mind, which might never leave Zuko’s mind, which even now is making Zuko’s pants feel a little too tight.

 _Enough!_ Zuko scolds himself, appalled. Enough. Sokka is out there right now, completely miserable, so now is clearly _not_ the time to think about the way his ropy muscles looked in lantern light. Growling at himself, Zuko sucks in a deep breath and steps back around the door to the balcony once again. Where Sokka is still sitting, now with his head tipped back, eyes open, staring hopelessly at the sky.

“He’s not here,” he announces, not even looking at Zuko. “None of them are _here,_ we came and risked our lives for no spirits damned reason. And now we can’t get out, and he’s not even here.”

Desperately, Zuko searches for something to say. “I…I’m sorry.”

“ _I’m_ sorry for getting us into this pointless mess. I’m just so fucking _frustrated-_ ”

“It’s okay.” Zuko means it. He understands honor, he understands that Sokka is probably scared of what his father will do if Sokka doesn’t get him out. He’s not usually the reassuring kind, but he has to come up with something, so he tries his hand at hopeful. “We’ll figure this out. We’ll get out of here, and then we’ll find him.”

The grateful look that Sokka sends him lights Zuko’s cheeks on fire. It’s a damn good thing he’s wearing this stupid helmet. “You’re a good friend, Zuko,” Sokka sighs, and Zuko is grinning like an idiot under his helmet. Glad that Sokka can’t see, he sticks his hand out and pulls Sokka to his feet. The warrior takes a deep breath. “I’m sorry I dragged you into this mess.”

“I chose to come.”

“That you did!” Sokka slaps him on the back and shoots Zuko a cheeky grin. “So I’m definitely not responsible for whatever happens to you.”

Rolling his eyes, Zuko is searching his brain for a comeback, but his head’s been utterly empty since Sokka touched him. He’s still distracted by the memory of Sokka’s calloused hand in his, keeps glancing down at his hand as if it’ll be different, changed. Part of it is Sokka, and the, the, the strange protective feelings Zuko has for him, the way Zuko seems to feel drawn to him. Part of it is just that…just that it’s been so long since someone touched him like that. Casual. Friendly. Like Toph the other night. Zuko hadn’t even realized he was missing something until –

“Suki!”

“Huh?”

“That’s Suki down there!” Sokka’s practically giddy. “That’s – she’s – she, um, she’s a Kyoshi warrior. She and I…” Sokka blushes, and Zuko feels an unpleasant twist in his stomach. Oh. “Maybe this trip isn’t such a bust after all.”

“Yeah,” Zuko agrees halfheartedly, following Sokka’s finger to an unfairly pretty girl perched in the corner of the yard. “Yeah, I guess not.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Annd here comes a lot of gay angst
> 
> As always I can't wait to hear what y'all think in the comments :)


	13. Chapter 13

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This DOES end in a cliffhanger, be warned

When he sees Suki in the yard, Sokka actually thinks he might cry. And for entirely the wrong reasons, too! He’s happy to see her, of course, and horrified that she’s in prison – maximum security prison, no less. Despite all that, his primary emotion is _relief._ Relief so deep it weakens his knees. Thank Tui and La she’s here. Thank every spirit out there that this stupid, harebrained journey wasn’t wasted after all. Sliding the helmet down over his head, Sokka’s glad he doesn’t have to mask the huge, dopey smile on his face as he sets off to find Suki’s cell. Silently, Zuko trails behind him.

As he descends the echoing metal stairs – why is _everything_ in this prison metal? – Sokka is already making plans in his head. Suki’s hand-to-hand combat ability, plus his own strategy, plus Zuko’s firebending…man, Boiling Rock doesn’t stand a chance in hell. Two minutes ago he was crying in a corner, but look at him now! Sokka is back, baby. He had wanted to rescue Hakoda. He really did. But, but know that he knows Suki is _here,_ and not locked up in some Fire Nation holding in the Earth Kingdom…now that Sokka knows that, he has a whole different set of concerns.

And Azula had sounded so vicious, so evil, when she talked about Suki on the day of the eclipse, but when Sokka saw her across the courtyard she looked so whole, so healthy, so gloriously bored. Had the Fire Nation princess been bluffing? Really, she was just a kid, too, at the end of the day. Younger than Zuko, so she had to be…man, that psycho princess was fifteen at the most. _That’s_ something for Sokka to puzzle over later.

For now, he takes it as a really, really good sign that Suki couldn’t have been brutally tortured, the way Azula had implied. She’s here, she’s here and she’s okay, and Sokka and Zuko are going to break her out.

All Sokka wants to do when they reach the yard is go to Suki, but he doubts his own ability to keep calm with her _right there._ Every minute seems to _drag_ by as they wait for the prisoners to return to their cells, but when they finally do, Sokka is positively giddy. Zuko is the only thing that holds him back, muttering that it’ll look suspicious if he barges into her cell straightaway. Finally, _finally,_ when the firebender decides enough time has passed, he lets go of his stranglehold on Sokka’s arm, and the two approach the door to Suki’s cell.

“I’ll stand guard,” Zuko murmurs, as Sokka’s hand trembles on the door handle. “If you hear me knock on the door, it’s time to go.”

Sokka’s already halfway through the door by the time Zuko finishes. Inside, Suki’s sitting on the edge of a metal bed, fairly glowing in the dim red light. She’s not wearing her Kyoshi uniform or makeup. Sokka marvels at the clean beauty of her bare face.

“Hey.”

“Who the fuck are you?” Her voice is hostile, she pulls back just a little.

Sokka steps forward. She glares. “You don’t remember me?”

“You all look the same to me.”

Supremely confident, Sokka leans in towards her. “Maybe this will remind you.”

The next thing he knows, Sokka is flying across the room, where his helmet meets the wall and rings his head like a bell. He sits up, brain spinning, oversize helmet falling off his head, and Suki’s furious, guarded expression transforms. It’s almost worth the lump on the back of his head to see her hands fly to her cheeks, her eyes go wide with confusion-surprise-joy. “Sokka?”

“What a way to say hello!”

Laughing, she all but flies across the room, kneeling to embrace him. “Sokka. Sokka! All the spirits, Sokka, I can’t believe you’re here.”

“Me neither.” He’s smiling up at her, at her fine brown hair, loose for once, and her bright eyes, and the fond smile pointed right at him. “I had no idea I was dating a _convict.”_ He wiggles his eyebrows at her, clearly joking, but the smile fades, just a little. it’s probably a sensitive subject, so Sokka rushes on. “I, um, seriously though, I had no idea you were here. I thought you were still in the Earth Kingdom, and then Azula said something about-”

“Azula.” Suki wrinkles her nose. “That girl is a piece of work.”

Nodding emphatically, Sokka charges on. “Anyway – but – I’m so glad you’re here. I’m so glad I found you. Are the other Kyoshi warriors -?”

“No.” Suki shakes her head regretfully. “We, ah. We were causing some…trouble, where we were being held.” Sokka grins. That’s his girl. “And they figured out I was the leader. Thought sending me away would help keep the others in line.”

“Not if I know them,” Sokka mutters, and Suki flashes him a smile. He turns serious. “How…how’ve you been? Are you okay?”

The smile fades again and a tight, pained expression comes into Suki’s face. “I’m…I’m fine, Sokka.”

 _Idiot. Idiot! Of course he shouldn’t bring up the fact that she’s in prison, that she’s been in prison._ “Well, don’t worry. We’re going to bust you out.”

Biting her lip, Suki nods, but she looks unsure. “Sokka…just, I mean, I trust you, but _how?_ And, and who’s we?”

Who’s we, indeed. As if on cue, there’s a short, insistent rapping on the door, and a hissed admonition that Sokka can’t quite hear. “Okay.” He turns to Suki. “Okay, look, it’s gonna be okay, we’re going to get you out of here.”

“Sokka, it’s _Boiling Rock._ And who is we?”

More rapping on the door, and more urgent this time, too.

“Just trust me, okay? We’ve already infiltrated as guards, we’ll be able to get out that way.”

“I just…Sokka, I’m worried. I’d rather stay here than see you end up in the next cell.”

Despite the pounding on the door, Sokka has to melt at that. “Suki. Suki, I’m not gonna leave you here. You’ve been stuck long enough. We’ll get you out.” The banging on the door is frantic now, and then there’s raised voices and a scuffle, which makes both Sokka and Suki wince. “I’ll – I have to go. But just trust me! It’ll be okay!”

Sokka can see from Suki’s face, as he slips out the door, that she does trust him. Completely.

The thing is that Zuko trusted him too. And somehow, _somehow,_ he ends up escorting the firebender down the hallway in chains. The firebender is in chains _again,_ and this time it is entirely and unavoidably Sokka’s fault.

“I’m sorry.” He’s hissed it a hundred times, but Zuko still hasn’t responded. His head is hanging down in front of him, his hands are cuffed behind his back, and Sokka _really_ wishes he would say something, anything, because they’re alone, so Sokka can take it. If Zuko wants to yell, or spit at him, or call him names, now’s the time to do it. Now’s the only time to do it. _Please, for the love of all the spirits, do it._ Because even useless Zuko anger is better than this dull, quiet, completely un-Zuko acceptance. “I…I’m sorry.”

“It’s fine.” It’s a response, but it’s muttered and toneless. Sokka jumps on it, grateful for even the most noncommittal answer to work with.

“It’s not fine. It’s not. I’m so sorry. I’m so fucking sorry.” He swallows hard. “I could…I could undo your cuffs and you could just-”

“Then they’ll know there’s an imposter loose.”

“Well, I could turn myself in?”

“The guard saw my face. You can’t exactly fake this.” He can’t point, so he just jerks his head to the side. The scar side. He has a point there.

“Well, uh, I could…”

“Just stop worrying about it. It’s fine. It’s over.” The emotion in Zuko’s voice could be described as resigned finality if his voice didn’t waver just a little on that last note. That little break in composure almost _undoes_ Sokka. He’s scared. The fire prince is scared, trying hard to hide it, but scared. And it’s _all Sokka’s fault._

“I-I mean, yeah, it is, you are...” Sokka scratches his head under the wolf-tail, trying hard to think of something worthwhile to say. Is there anything worthwhile to say? If he stops to think about how bad he’s fucked up, he’s going to cry again, and that’s not going to help anyone, so he digs his nails into his scalp hard to ground himself and tries to be useful. “I’m going to get you out. You and Suki both. I, I’m already getting a few ideas, so just…” He swallows hard. “Hang on.”

“Yeah.” Zuko nods. “Yeah, um, I’m sure you’ll come up with something.”

They’re almost at the warden’s door, but Sokka can’t just leave him like this, so he takes the risk. He stops and uses the one hand on Zuko’s shoulder to spin him around so they’re facing each other. Surprised, Zuko looks into his face with no stoic mask, completely vulnerable. “I am truly sorry for…for letting this happen.” It’s different when he’s looking right into Zuko’s unguarded golden eyes. Feels better. Real. He keeps both hands on Zuko’s shoulders, puts some weight there to make their connection solid. “I am not going to leave you. I am not going to let anything happen to you. I am going to get you out.”

For a moment Zuko just stands there, stunned, staring into Sokka’s face, and then he shakes himself. “Yeah. I…okay. I, um, I believe you.” He gives this experimental little tug away, but Sokka doesn’t let him go just yet.

“I mean it, okay? I mean it.” He shakes Zuko, just a little, and the firebender smiles this incredulous little smile that makes Sokka dizzy with relief. “You’re not getting away from Team Avatar that easy, you got that?” Now Zuko actually chuckles, and Sokka can’t help a huge, spreading grin. “Don’t get any ideas about spending the rest of the war locked up here safe and sound. You haven’t had nearly enough near-death experiences with us.”

“Okay, okay.” Zuko rolls his eyes. “I won’t get too used to the delicious food.”

“Good.” Sokka lets go of Zuko’s shoulders. “Good.” Suddenly the air between them is awkward, strange. Zuko drops his eyes to the floor. “I guess, uh. We’d better get you-”

“To the warden.”

“To the warden, yes. Yep, right this way.”

It’s only a few steps farther down the hall. Sokka really was playing it risky, talking to Zuko like that right out in the open. They stand in front of the door together. Sokka clears his throat. “Well. Well. Just…don’t be too hard on this guy, okay?” Zuko’s eyebrows shoot up. “That’s right. Don’t pull any of those crazy fire breath tricks. Or, or chase him around the room like he’s Aang.” The firebender is fighting a smile. “Hell, I’m half afraid if I leave you in there alone with some doddering official you’ll walk out of here the warden of Boiling Rock.”

“You’re an idiot.” There’s so much fondness there that Zuko won’t even look at Sokka when he says it, and Sokka still feels his heart swell.

“Yeah, well. You’re the one in handcuffs.”

Zuko snorts. “Fuck you, man.”

Sokka flashes all his teeth. “You wish.”

It’s probably not the most strategic idea to march Zuko into the warden’s room when he’s still red-faced and spluttering, but that’s the memory Sokka wants to have of him, has to have of him. Zuko grinning, ducking his head, trying not to laugh, even as Sokka’s hand moves for the door. Zuko, Zuko, Zuko. He’s gonna be just fine.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Lol Zuko will not be fine. 
> 
> Please let me know what you think in the comments!! I love hearing from y'all :)
> 
> Also some other news - I'm going back to college tomorrow, so I will likely have less time to write. I have loved writing this story and will absolutely continue working on it, but I may not update as regularly, sorry!


	14. Chapter 14

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> tw for threats and icky power plays by prison officials

Zuko is less than shocked when the warden immediately knows who he is. It’s practically the guy’s _job_ to know who he is – he’s one of the Fire Nation’s most wanted, after all. He’s significantly more surprised to learn that the slimy, overly pleased bureaucrat in front of him is Mai’s uncle. This is not good news. This is very, very not good news indeed.

“You _broke…_ my _niece’s…_ heart.”

Well…yes. Zuko had certainly hurt Mai. He knew he’d pissed her off. The reasons for that might not be quite what the warden is imagining…but it doesn’t much matter when he’s at the man’s mercy. And the truth would land Zuko in even worse trouble. That much he knows.

“Your father has a warrant out for your arrest.”

Deep breaths. Keep your head down so he can’t see your face. He’s speaking loud enough and clear enough that you don’t need to read his lips anyway, so just. Just relax the clench in your fingers. Just try to breathe. It’s…it’s going to be fine. Think of…think of Sokka. Sokka said it’s going to be fine. He _promised._

“I don’t think I’ll turn you over to your father just yet.”

It’s a fight to keep his head down, because Zuko wants to stare at the warden in shock. Complete, idiotic, grateful shock. Yes, yes, _yes,_ Zuko would so much rather be here than in the Imperial Palace. Yes, a thousand times yes, he’d rather be in this vengeful man’s hands than the hands of his father.

“I have some unfinished business with you, boy. And your father can have whatever’s left of you when I’m done.”

There’s a quick, jarring end to the elation Zuko was feeling. Suddenly, he’s very aware that this man is a prison warden, known for his brutality, his control, his efficiency in shutting down threats. Before he can stop himself, Zuko lifts his head to look the man in the face.

The warden is smiling.

It isn’t a pleasant smile.

Zuko swallows, hard.

The guards that escort him out of the warden’s chambers aren’t rough with him. Yet. The warden warned them to be careful with his _special_ prisoner. The tone of voice made Zuko’s skin crawl. He’s starting to think the only reason they’re not hurting him already is because the warden is saving him for bigger, worse things. He tries hard not to think about it as they frog-march him back to a cell. His cell, he supposes.

“New uniform,” one of the guards informs him curtly, tossing a handful of dingy red fabric onto the floor. “Change.”

Zuko wants to snarl at the man’s presumption but he’s not even sure what he would say. Besides, now is probably the time to start picking his battles. He grabs the shirt and then pauses, looking uncertainly towards the guards. He can’t see their eyes through their masks, but they stand there, clearly intending to stay, and one of them crosses his arms over his chest.

It’s stupid. It’s stupid to be self-conscious about this. Still, Zuko removes the armor as slowly as he can and tosses it on the floor. He darts a glance up at the guards. They’re still standing. Waiting. Cheeks going red, Zuko peels off the shirt, and replaces it as quickly as he can with the raggedy red prisoner’s garb. It’s stupid to get embarrassed about this. It’s just skin. It’s _stupid._

Zuko still bites his lip to keep it from trembling when he has to drop his pants and stand before them in his underwear.

Throughout the humiliating ordeal, the guards don’t say a word, or make a single move. He’s finished, he’s dressed, and they _still_ don’t move. Unable to stay silent a moment longer, Zuko tilts his chin up at them, glaring. “What do you want now?” he challenges.

The dark eyeholes of the masks stare back at him impassively. “Pick up those clothes.”

“You do it.”

The guard on the left tips his head to the side. “You’re a little brat.” His voice is calm, measured, as if he’s discussing the weather. “Do you know what happens to bratty, spoiled little princes in this prison?” Zuko’s mouth works as he tries to come up with a snarky response. As usual, reflexive anger is his savior.

“I-”

The guard interrupts him effortlessly. “We’ve never had one, actually. So whatever happens to you is gonna be brand new. I can’t wait to see what the boys in here come up with.”

His casually interested tone makes Zuko want to vomit. Somehow this nebulous _thing_ that he’s suggesting is so much worse than a direct threat. He just keeps glaring, fists clenched, not sure what else to do, until the left guard, the talker, nudges the discarded pile of armor with one foot. “Clean up your mess, boy.”

For a minute longer, Zuko holds out, unmoving and glaring fiercely. Then the guard on the right fills his palm with fire, and Zuko finally bends on reluctant knees to fold the fucking clothes into a neat little pile that he hands over to the guards, still glaring fit to kill. “Good boy.” The talker guard says it as emotionlessly as possible and still everything in Zuko revolts, want to yell, fight, throw something. Before he can decide what to do, the door is slamming shut behind the pair, and Zuko is left to contemplate his cell.

It’s a little metal box. No windows, locked door. The air is hot but it’s not _good_ heat, sun heat, it’s just heavy damp air. Zuko already misses the sun. There are no furnishings but for the metal shelf that’s supposedly a bed. Zuko has nothing else to do but sit on it, and stare at the wall, and think far more than is good for him.

So he’s imprisoned at Boiling Rock. So Azula was right. Spirits, if his father could see him now. This would be worse than losing the Agni Kai. Worse than fighting Zhao and committing treason in his quest to find the Avatar. Worse than confronting his father and having the audacity to redirect the Fire Lord’s lightning when Ozai tried to kill him for his crimes.

Zuko stares at his hands. Unbidden, a memory rises of the time that Azula killed a turtleduckling and Zuko brought its little burnt body to his parents’ chambers, crying. He’d thought it was only his mother in there. When his father saw Zuko’s teary face, Ozai had snarled like a Komodo rhino. It was the first time Zuko had seen disgust on his father’s face, aimed at him. It would not be the last.

Just thinking about Ozai makes Zuko’s shoulders tense. It’s stupid because he knows Ozai is just going to kill him. Maybe he’ll assemble an audience, and he’ll probably do it with lightning for the drama, but at least it’ll be quick. Ozai has never been a fan of torture. _Dragons,_ Zuko has heard him tell generals on more than one occasion, _don’t play with their food._

So really, Zuko should be far more afraid of the warden, who’s doubtless sitting in his office dreaming up some kind of bizarre, unique agony to inflict on the fallen prince. But regardless of the warden’s intentions, his threats, his power, he doesn’t hold a candle to the fear that strikes Zuko when he thinks of his father.

Although after that confrontation on the day of black sun, Zuko thinks maybe he shouldn’t think of Ozai as his father anymore.

Zuko stands and starts to pace. He has to move, has to be on his feet. What is he _doing here?_ He’s a prisoner in his own country, an enemy of the state. He threw in his lot with the avatar and that’s all well and good, but outside of a group that’s just barely starting to like him, he has…nothing. Nothing and no one. No allies, no Uncle, no…no Mai.

Uncle and Mai. Uncle and Mai. Two people who had stood at his side over and over again, and Zuko had just…cast them aside. He still remembers the look on Uncle’s face when he turned away from him in the green crystal caverns below Lake Laogi. He hadn’t gotten to see Mai’s face when she read his letter, but, but…

She’d kept the betrothal. Even when he came back sullen and distant with his face destroyed, her parents had told the palace she was happy to remain Zuko’s promised bride. Back then, he’d assumed it was her careerman father making that call. No way did Mai really want to marry a guy she hadn’t seen since middle school, a stranger with half his face fried off who was awkward and angry and all but unreachable. There was no way she was happy to be engaged to him. _Happy_ wasn’t a word that described Mai on the best of days. Nor Zuko, that first night back in Caldera City, when they were alone in his chambers and his heart rate rose, thinking about what was expected of him, and he started fumbling with the belt around his waist and Mai said –

She’d said, “If you try to stick that thing in me I’m going to cut it off.”

Zuko smiles, even in his cell in Boiling Rock, just thinking about it.

He’d been surprised, though he shouldn’t have been. Mai had always been perceptive, and exceedingly practical. “You don’t want to fuck me,” she told him baldly that night as he sat there with his belt undone and his mouth hanging open. “And I don’t want to fuck you. What we’re going to do is cover for each other. And no fucking, ever.”

“But – wait, I…I…”

“Zuko, you’re gay.”

He flinched at the accusation. Of course he did! Homosexuality had been illegal for decades – Fire Lord Sozin had seen to that, after the paternity scandal that plagued Azulon. Either way, it wouldn’t have mattered if Zuko killed a dozen avatars, his father would have disowned him, banished him, maybe seized the opportunity and outright killed him for his, his…perversion. What he really needed to do was deny Mai, but he found his mouth moving and nothing coming out.

“It’s all right,” she continued, still sounding utterly bored, though her words meant his life. “Ty Lee and I have been hooking up for years.”

“Uh…” What an intelligent response Zuko had had for her.

Luckily, Zuko hadn’t needed to be intelligent because Mai had it all planned out. She and Zuko would go ahead with their sham betrothal, and the both of them would be safe. It would even draw Azula’s suspicions off Ty Lee. The two of them could be friends, could be partners, could look out for each other. The way they always had.

Mai laid it all out for him, and then looked over to where Zuko was still glued, speechless, to the bed. She lifted an eyebrow, still looking bored, maybe a little expectant. It would take someone who knew her well, someone who’d maybe known her since childhood, to see her nervousness, and Zuko did. What she’d offered was tantamount to treason.

And he’d accepted.

After all, why not? He liked Mai, liked her toughness and her dry wit and the way absolutely everything seemed to roll right off her. And if sometimes they both got lonely…well, they’d rather be lonely than in relationships with people who expected them to… _perform._ In fact, they’d been weirdly happy, for a few weeks. They got along well, and they were both that much more relaxed, and they were all a little safer from Azula’s paranoid eye. And then…and then…

First, Mai and Ty Lee had gotten into that weird fight on Ember Island, where they kept saying everything except what they really needed to say, because Azula was right there. And Zuko and Mai had fought, because he was so sick of being with someone who may have _liked_ him but would never care about him in the way that…well, in the way that everyone wanted to be cared about. And again, he couldn’t say anything about it because of fucking Azula, who honestly seemed to thrive off of all the hurt and confusion and misdirected anger.

More than anything else, Zuko was so angry, so, _so_ angry with himself, and he was picturing life if the Fire Nation won, and how eventually he’d end up in a loveless marriage ruling over subjugated colonies who hated him, hundreds of people who’d been brutally conquered, the Fire Nation firmly established as a nation of angry, hateful people, and him the head of it all, just like Ozai, just like his _fucking_ father…

So Zuko had bolted.

And he had left Mai behind.

Groaning, Zuko throws himself down on the iron bed hard enough that he’s probably going to wake up with bruises. _Dammit._ He’d abandoned Mai. It was as simple as that. He’d abandoned Mai, and now her uncle is ready to pay him back for that in physical pain.

Which maybe Zuko deserves! After all, he’s in handcuffs _again_ so the universe clearly has it out for him. Even when he’s doing his best to be good, he does it wrong, he hurts people, he's _bad._ Even when he's doing his best to be good, it’s so, so, _so_ hard _._ Zuko doesn’t think it’s supposed to be this hard. He’s been in this cell for what, half an hour? And he’s already having daydreams about being in the Imperial Palace, accepted by Azula, with his father’s approval, everything done for him, everything easy…

And with Uncle betrayed and completely disappointed in him.

As a…a gay guy about to marry a lesbian.

Maybe Zuko’s just not supposed to be happy.

Okay, even for the morose firebender, that’s a little much. He forces himself to take a deep breath and clear his mind. He hates the empty time, _hates_ it, but likely as not, this is part of the warden’s scheme. Telling him he’ll be tortured and then putting him in a cell to think about it – it’s classic psychological manipulation, and it’s working. If Zuko keeps up like this, he’ll fall apart long before the warden lays a hand on him.

So instead he’s going to meditate, and when he’s done, he’ll…he’ll think about ways to get out. He is going to get out. Sokka promised him.

Sokka, who knows nothing about Boiling Rock except what Zuko’s told him. Sokka, who waltzed in with no plan, no knowledge, and completely fake confidence. Sokka who didn’t even get to complete his mission and is bringing his _girlfriend_ out instead of his father –

And okay, maybe that’s…maybe that’s something that Zuko’s thinking about. Sokka’s pretty, capable, Earth Kingdom girlfriend who is not morally grey and probably doesn’t fight with Katara every time they’re together. Of all the stupid things Zuko’s thought about since getting shoved in this cell, this is the absolute stupidest, but it’s also impossible to ignore, because…because…

Because maybe Zuko followed a fucking crush into a maximum-security prison! All concentration gone, Zuko buries his head in his hands and moans aloud. Of all the dumb fucking things to do for a crush, this has to be the absolute dumbest, most impulsive, most, most, most _stupidest_ thing anyone’s ever done. In the history of the world. Ever.

And now Zuko’s all hurt because the guy has a girlfriend! And he’s getting all weird and frantic alone in this cell and he _still_ can’t stop thinking about what it felt like to have Sokka’s hands on his shoulders. What it felt like to have Sokka stare into his eyes.

With colossal effort, Zuko forcibly shoves those thoughts out of his brain. He’s going to _meditate,_ Agni dammit, and then he’s going to _plan,_ and then he’s going to…he’s going to…

He’s just going to pray to all the spirits that they make it out alive.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yayyy I finally got an update out to y'all!! Sorry it took so long oops. Hope you enjoyed; please please please tell me what you think in the comments they're my favorite.


	15. Chapter 15

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> TW: hypothermia

Okay. Okay, okay, okay. Okay! So first task was to get into Boiling Rock, and Sokka did that, with some help from Zuko. And then find someone to rescue – and they found Suki! And then, and then, well…Sokka cheered up Zuko after the poor guy got arrested, and that was something. Now item number four is…well, it’s getting himself, and Suki, and Zuko out of an inescapable prison. That, um, that can be done. For sure, that can be done. In fact, Sokka already has the beginning of an idea. All he needed was a few good breaks and his creativity is coming back to him, his cool planner’s head. This could work out. This could still work out.

Sokka tells himself that over and over, feverishly, trying to keep everything else out of his head. It’s just that everything else is so spirits-damned _scary._

Focus. Focus. He’s gotta focus because that’s the only way they’ll get out so – so – so –

The cooler seems like…well, it seems like torture for the firebenders imprisoned at Boiling Rock, if the man from yesterday’s dead-eyed, shivering horror is anything to go by. More importantly for their purposes, however, if it keeps the cold in, it must keep heat out, because this place is so muggy it’s unbearable. The metal frames must be insulated with something that maintains the internal temperature and confounds the external. If that’s true, then they _should_ be able to safely use the frame as a raft. _Should_ being the operative word. Probably Teo or his father could explain the whole contraption, but Sokka doesn’t need to understand it. He just needs it to work.

Sokka is still thinking it over in the mess hall as he sits down to shovel some shapeless orange goo into his mouth, alongside a faceless army of guards on long wood benches. Moments after he swallows his first spoonful, he’s gasping for air while the other guards roar with laughter – apparently _everything_ in here has to be flaming hot, including the food.

“What, you’ve never had dragon curry before?”

“’M…from…the colonies,” Sokka gasps out, and farther down the table, some tough looking guy narrows his eyes.

“Where?” he demands.

“Uh…Omashu?”

It’s the first thing that comes to Sokka’s mind. The big guy still looks suspicious, so Sokka gulps and charges on ahead. “They have this weird, uh, delivery system – all these stone chutes all over the city. And this like, absolutely crazy king. He held out for a really long time but we got him in the end.” Too late, Sokka realizes the city hasn’t been captured long enough for it to be his birthplace, if he was truly a Fire Nation army kid. “I mean, it’s not really home. It’s just, you know, the last place I stayed before I signed up and came here, but really, I was just kind of an army brat, and-”

“Okay, okay, kid, I get it.” The guy rolls his eyes. “I’m sorry for doubting you. Just that fucking prince claimed to be from the colonies too. Spoiled brat has never known a challenge in his _life,_ and he claims to be from the colonies.”

The tough guy shakes his head disgustedly, and Sokka figures he’d better chime in. “Oh, yeah, that’s…I mean, how could he? After growing up in the palace. He doesn’t know what it’s like to be…from…the Earth Kingdom…”

The man down the bench seems to take Sokka’s hesitation as shame, and he shakes his head insistently. “Nothing to be ashamed of, being from the Earth Kingdom!” _No, but Sokka still wishes this guy wasn’t turning every head in the damn hall._ “That fuckin’ half-faced firebender has more to be ashamed of than either of us, and he was born in the imperial palace!”

Half-faced. That brings Sokka up short, puts a foul taste in his mouth. Especially because the other guards exclaim righteously, and cackle, and shove each other when they hear this big guy’s declaration. “That brat deserved everything Ozai gave him and more!” comes a shout from somewhere in the crowd, and this prompts an even bigger cheer.

Sokka swallows hard. _What the fuck does that mean? What did Ozai do to him?_

“Imagine being so angry about a burn that you turn against your nation.”

“Imagine looking half-cooked all the time!”

The crowd is getting louder and meaner as they all feed on each other, and in their midst Sokka shrinks, searching desperately for an exit. Unfortunately for him, the big guy still seems to have his eye on Sokka. When the undercover warrior finally makes a break for it, his interrogator, the instigator of this whole rowdy conversation, is close on his heels.

For a few steps, Sokka pretends he doesn’t notice he’s being followed. Then, suddenly, it’s unavoidable, as the guy steps right into his path. “Hey! Hey. Listen, kid. I know news can be unreliable in the Earth Kingdom. You feeling left out because you don’t know the story?”

For just a moment, Sokka considers it. He’s curious – how could he not be curious? Zuko said it was a training accident but after what he’s heard today that rings false. It’s a serious mark, and it’s extremely visible, and it makes Zuko look so damn tough…and, okay, maybe, just _maybe,_ Sokka thinks it’s a little bit really hot…

But it’s not fair to hear about that from someone else. It’s Zuko’s story to share or not, and Sokka sure as hell is not going to let this prick take that from his friend. “Nah, I know the story,” he waves away the offer dismissively. “I’m just still…getting used to everything, you know?” He sighs, decides to take a risk. “I…I can’t believe I’m saying this, but I might be a little…homesick?”

The man’s demeanor softens. “Hey, kid, trust me. I’m from the colonies too. It’s tough at first. Everyone thinks they’re better than you. You just gotta be the toughest motherfucker out there, yeah?” He claps Sokka on the shoulder, and the warrior has to fight not to wince. “I’m Zih Lan. You need anything, you come right to me.”

“Th…uh, thanks. Zih Lan.”

“’Course. And hey, uh, let me give you some free advice.” Sokka nods uneasily. “We’re not allowed to date the female guards…” There’s a fiendish smirk crawling up Zih Lan’s face. “But that’s not the only way to entertain yourself around here, if you catch my meaning.”

Sokka doesn’t, at all, but he’s too creeped out to bother asking. “Good…good to know. Look, I think I’m going to get to sleep a little early, just so I can be ready for tomorrow.”

Zih Lan smiles. “You’re a good kid. Stay out of trouble.”

“Oh, I will!”

As if. The first thing Sokka does the next morning is foment insurrection. Well, technically the first thing he does is wake up…get dressed…eat…

But after all that, he finds Zuko and Suki, and foments some insurrection.

Well, he also mediates a little mini fight, which is really pretty fair, because Zuko _did_ burn down Suki’s village. And then, well, now they have another firebender involved because of some loud talking. It’s the prisoner from yesterday. Guy named Chit Sang. 

But after all of _that,_ Sokka gets right down to fomenting insurrection.

Of course, it requires someone to go into the cooler. “Nuh-uh,” Chit Sang says immediately. “No way. I was in there yesterday. Not for anything.”

“I can’t firebend, so they’re not going to put me in there,” Suki points out, with crossed arms. Sokka’s heart sinks.

Before he can even say anything, Zuko’s nodding. “I’ll do it.”

“No – no, okay? Just, no. I’ll sneak in there and do it. Or, or figure out something else-”

“Don’t be ridiculous.” Zuko shrugs. “It’s a good plan. Chit Sang and I will fake a fight, I’ll get thrown in the cooler, and I’ll undo the bolts. Simple.”

“Nothing’s simple when you’re that cold,” Chit Sang remarks darkly, and Sokka shivers.

“I’m not doing that to you, Zuko. I’m not asking you to do that. I’m the reason you’re _in_ prison to begin with, I’m not gonna ask you to let yourself get _tortured-”_

“I’m going to be tortured either way.” Zuko says it casually, factually, as if it’s nothing. “The warden told me yesterday he has plans. Whatever that means. So I may as well be tortured doing something…you know. Useful.”

Sokka’s too busy gawping like a fish to process more than Zuko’s first sentence. “He can’t…the warden can’t…” Even Suki, who’s been irritated with the firebender on principle all morning, looks appalled. “I mean, Zuko, you’re sixteen. You’re a prince. You’re a kid, I mean-”

“Not a prince anymore,” Zuko corrects quietly. He meets Sokka’s eyes without a flicker of fear, seemingly without any emotion at all. “It’s a good plan, Sokka. I really think it could work. So let’s do this before something else goes wrong.”

Chewing on his lip, Sokka nods reluctantly. There’s not really any other way around it. A firebender has to go into that icebox, and Chit Sang is flatly refusing. Still, that’s his ally. Spirits, that’s his friend, who he’s sending in to freeze!

As if he can hear Sokka’s panicked thoughts, Zuko shakes his head. “It won’t even be that bad for me. Uncle taught me a breathing trick. To keep warm. It’ll probably even, you know, keep me safe from whatever else the warden has planned.”

“If…” Sokka swallows hard, already feeling horrible for agreeing. “If you’re sure. Like, really, really sure. Completely sure.”

“I’m sure.”

“But, for real sure.”

“I’m sure.”

“For absolutely sure?”

“For sure, Sokka.”

“But, okay, and it won’t hurt you, like, at all? And you’ll be okay? And you’ll be safe, and-”

“Sokka.” Zuko’s patient golden eyes meet his, and Sokka feels a strange kind of thrill through him at the steady intensity of the gaze. “I’m sure.”

That’s that. All too soon, Chit Sang and Zuko are picking their fight, and Zuko is throwing fire, and Sokka is escorting him, one arm clamped around his, to the outer corridor of the prison, on the eastern side where there’s a blind spot between towers. Even though there’s another guard right there, unlocking the door, he can’t resist murmuring to Zuko as he pushes him toward the icy little box. “Just, um, stay safe, okay? Be careful.”

The only reply he gets is a tiny nod from Zuko as they shut the door. Panic still making his heart race, Sokka peeks in through the slot in the door, the little window near the top. His anxious gaze is rewarded with a tiny, rolled-eyes smile from the firebender, who, true to his word, isn’t even shivering. Sokka feels a little lighter as he walks away.

But then – but then – but then –

The warden decrees they’re to leave Zuko in the fucking box for _hours,_ actual _hours,_ which is way longer than anyone else who’s been put in there. He goes in around noon, just before lunch. Sokka is finally sent to get him at five. Fucking five pm. Sokka’s spent the empty hours pacing. Looking at the clock. Explaining to Suki that Zuko’s a good guy now, he is, he _really_ is. Looking at the clock. Arguing with Chit Sang about whether it’s suspicious to lurk by the cooler corridor. Looking at the clock. Sneaking blankets into Zuko’s room. Insisting to Suki, almost frantically, that Zuko is a good guy and he doesn’t deserve this, so much that Suki looks at him funny and lays a hand on his shoulder. Looking at the clock. Remembering that time he’d fallen through the ice while fishing with his dad, and how unutterably cold he’d been, drenched and freezing on the ice.

Looking at the clock, looking at the clock, looking at the damned clock.

When he finally hears that they’re allowed to pull Zuko out, it’s all Sokka can do not to sprint through the halls.

 _Come on._ He’s pleading silently with Zuko, through gritted teeth. His hands hang in fists at his sides. _Come on. You’re a firebender. You’re a member of the royal family. You’re a master, you can_ breathe fire, _you learned from the dragons, you’re gonna be okay. You told me you’d be okay._

_Please, Tui and La, Agni, all the spirits, anyone. Please, come on Zuko. Be okay._

He’s not okay. He’s just not. Sokka doesn’t even have to touch him to see that. Zuko is all crunched over on himself and sitting motionless on the floor like a _dead thing_ and there’s frost in his hair. Fucking frost.

The door swings open and Sokka’s kneeling in front of Zuko, afraid to touch him, paralyzed, when Zuko gives the tiniest, most pathetic little cough, and his head dips down just a little more towards his lap. Sokka follows his gaze down to see the glint of metal and his chest throbs with the realization –

Zuko did his job. He did what he said he would, and then he sat in here and _froze_ waiting for Sokka to come back – waiting –

Sokka doesn’t care what looks he gets. He carries Zuko back to his cell, careful not to let any of the hardware spill. “He’s all stiff,” he explains with an eye-roll to the guard that actually stops him, just one hallway away from his destination. “Warden throws him in there for five hours and then _I_ have to deal with the shape he’s in after. Typical.”

The guard seems satisfied with that, and it’s a good thing, too, because Zuko’s dead weight in Sokka’s arms is almost too much to bear alone. But another guard would notice the glinting metal cradled in Zuko’s lap, so Sokka grits his teeth and heaves Zuko up on his hip and somehow, somehow, _somehow,_ hauls the frigid firebender in the door.

Then he slams it behind him, and jams one of the flanges of his helmet hard into the gap, so that the door can’t be opened. Staggering now, he manages the last few steps to Zuko’s sorry excuse for a bed and dumps the firebender there as his muscles scream at him for relief.

Now comes the tough part.

Sokka’s from the South Pole. He knows what to do with hypothermia victims. He knows all too well. It’s easy enough to turn his brain off as he peels off his own clothes, but then there’s Zuko curled up on the cot, with only a few standard-issue army blankets for comfort, shivering only a little bit, which Sokka knows is bad, bad, bad news.

So he gets over himself and peels Zuko’s shirt off first, and then his pants. When both of them are in just their underwear, he lies down on the bottom blanket, which is already chilly from Zuko’s skin, and he pulls the frozen firebender in against his chest.

 _Fuck,_ he’s freezing. His skin is clammy and icy enough that Sokka almost starts shivering. Instead, he piles the clothing from the floor around the both of them and keeps his arms wrapped tight around Zuko. _Come back._ He keeps even his internal voice calm, gentle, chiding. _Come on back now, Zuko. Come back._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am SO SORRY that took me so long my dear friends but midterms are OVER and I am BACK and I have big big plans for these two so  
> stick around and I will try to get another chapter to ya this weekend as a thank you for being so patient and also because I got excited ;)  
> Please let me know what you think in the comments! As you can see I'm playing fast and loose with canon once again yeehaw


	16. Chapter 16

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> tw for noncon threats, panic attack, hypothermia

It takes a long time for Zuko to orient himself. Waking isn’t a matter of opening his eyes, or even waiting a few moments for his head to clear. Long minutes pass wherein the only hazy awareness in his head is a clinging need to get as close as he can to the source of the radiant heat next to him.

He’s not cold anymore. That’s the first thing that he’s actually consciously aware of. Maybe his feet are a little chilly, but they’re wrapped in a blanket and pressed against something warm. It feels _so good_ not to be cold that just knowing he’s warm almost puts Zuko straight back to sleep. But there’s something in the back of his awareness that won’t be ignored. Some realization he should be having.

Blearily, Zuko thinks through it. He was in the cooler, and he was fine. He was fine for a really long time! He was unscrewing the bolts in the sides of the cooler and…there were a ton of the little frigid things. It hurt his fingers, trying to turn them. They were cold and screwed in _so tightly._ He kept…he kept warming his fingers up. He was using up his energy and his fire heating his extremities. Even now, lying here sometime later, his fingers still feel swollen from trying to twist the bolts.

He’d…he’d used too much energy. That was it. And, and he hadn’t expected it because most other times he would’ve been fine. The airbender trick that Uncle had taught him had worked in the North Pole, even, but then, he had been strategic. Measured. Careful. In the cooler he’d been reckless. Moving around a bunch. Letting his body heat dissipate. By the time he realized his stomach was empty and his energy waning, it was too late to try to conserve.

Yes. Yes, it’s all coming back to Zuko now – the feeling of his hands and feet getting so cold he wanted to cry, and waiting on the floor, waiting and wishing he’d done things differently. It hurt, getting that cold. It really hurt. And there was nothing to do but sit and think and grow cold and think about how much it hurt to grow cold.

Looking back on it now, warm and thinking straight again, it’s easy to see where he went wrong. The stomach is the sea of chi. That’s what Uncle had always told him. Turns out they don’t feed prisoners so well at Boiling Rock. Not much chi to be had after Zuko was done picking all the bolts out of the walls. All he could do was make himself small and wait for Sokka.

Zuko’s eyes widen.

Sokka.

Fucking Sokka. That’s the warm shape next to him, the lump in the darkness that he’s pressed up against. Sokka’s…Sokka’s holding him, tight. Zuko feels his heart just about stop in his chest. For a long moment he’s afraid to breathe. For a few long moments he lies there, completely tense and unmoving, trying to figure out what the _hell_ is going on. The low rumble and motionlessness of the form next to him is a pretty good indicator that Sokka is deeply asleep, and once he realizes that, Zuko relaxes, just a little. The water tribe warrior probably…probably doesn’t even realize what he’s doing.

It gives Zuko a few moments to collect himself before he rouses Sokka, and he’s grateful for that. So – so he’s lying in Sokka’s arms. And the warrior next to him is so _warm._ And it’s been so long since someone held him like that, that Zuko sort of just wants to lay here, with the steady rise and fall of Sokka’s chest, and feel his arms, and just sort of…melt. There’s this warm, squirrely feeling in his chest, and the dim red lantern in the room is illuminating the curve of Sokka’s jaw…

This isn’t right. He can’t just lie here and stare at Sokka while the warrior’s asleep and, and have _weird chest feelings_ about the warrior’s arms around him. It’s not fair. Steeling himself, Zuko scoots a bit farther from Sokka, as far as the warrior’s arms will allow, and then he clears his throat. It takes a few tries, and some obnoxiously loud coughs, but eventually, Sokka’s blue eyes blink open. He yawns, rolls his shoulders back…

And then tugs Zuko back toward his chest.

“W-w-what’re you doing?”

“Oh hey, you’re awake.” Sokka yawns again, smiles sleepily across the narrow bed at Zuko. “C’mere.”

“What…why?” Zuko prays his voice doesn’t sound as strained as he thinks it does.

It’s hard to tell in the dark, but to Zuko it looks like Sokka is completely unbothered. “You were fucking freezing, man. Best way to warm someone up is skin on skin contact.”

“Skin on skin…?” Zuko’s brow furrows, and then he yelps, hand flying to his mouth as he realizes – he realizes…

He’s in his _fucking underwear._ And so is Sokka. How in the name of Agni did he not notice that? They’re, they’re lying in bed together and wearing only their underwear and they’re wrapped around each other like – like – like –

“Hey, hey, hey, okay.” Sokka pulls back from Zuko, and if Zuko didn’t know better, he’d think the movement was reluctant. Probably the guy just got comfortable where he was lying. Too bad, because Zuko is scrambling backward as fast as he can, pressing himself back against the metal wall. It’s…it’s hard to imagine how this muggy place could possibly be cold, but it must be, because Zuko stubbornly refuses to admit that there’s any other explanation for why he would be missing Sokka’s arms.

The warrior in question runs a hand through his hair. “Zuko, I…I’m sorry.” He sounds it. Really, he sounds upset and unhappy and completely exhausted. “I’m so fucking sorry about the cooler, and then this…” he gestures lamely at the space between them. “I…I really hope you, um, you’re okay. It’s just that…I mean, I’m from the South Pole. I’m not making this up. The best way to warm someone up is skin-on-skin, and you were so cold.” He shrugs halfheartedly. “I had to. But of course I’m really…I’m so sorry I made you uncomfortable.”

“No.” Zuko’s voice comes out too high, so he coughs, embarrassed. “No, um, it’s fine. You did what you had to do. Um, thank you.”

Sokka shakes his head, looking pained. “I shouldn’t have had to do it in the first place. I _never_ should have let you go in there.”

Oh. That. Well, it hadn’t been Zuko’s…favorite experience. “It…it wasn’t so bad.”

“I said I wasn’t gonna let shit like this happen anymore!” Sokka’s voice rises, and Zuko can’t tell if he sounds more angry or sad.

“It’s okay, Sokka. You don’t have to protect me. It worked out fine.”

“Fuck, Zuko, no. It didn’t work out fine.” Yeah, Sokka’s definitely angry. “You were…Zuko, you were…”

“I’m okay, Sokka.”

“No, Zuko, it’s…” Sokka’s jaw works as he struggles to speak. “It’s not. It’s not okay. Seeing you like that…seeing you…”

“It all worked out fine-”

“Zuko, I’m asking you to quit saying that shit.” Yeah, Sokka’s furious. It’s a side of him Zuko hasn’t seen, but oddly, he’s not afraid of the warrior. Even in this dim, uncertain light, he can tell Sokka’s fury is not directed outward.

“Okay.” Zuko’s voice is soft.

“It’s not okay. The way you’ve been treated – the way we’ve acted – the shit we’ve – the shit _I’ve_ put you through…” Sokka sounds almost, almost _agonized,_ and Zuko kind of wants to reach for him, but that’s a stupid, stupid impulse that he squashes right down. “I wish you’d yell at me.”

The statement is so sudden and frank that all Zuko can do is blink. “Huh?”

“I wish you’d scream at me. Or, or, punch me. C’mon, something!”

“Sokka!”

“I mean it!” Sokka shakes his head. “And maybe that’s me trying to not feel guilty anymore, I don’t know, I just…” He heaves a sigh. “You don’t deserve any of this, and I feel like it’s my fault, and you just keep…accepting it, and like, what the hell is that?”

“It just isn’t that big a deal.” Zuko whispers it, watches the way Sokka’s face twists.

“You getting hurt is a big deal. To me.”

Zuko swallows. “Oh. Well…well, I’m okay. Okay?”

“Sure you are.” Sokka sags, the anger leaving him all at once. “Sure you are. Look, I’m just…I’m just really sorry. And I get why you don’t want to touch me.”

Zuko starts. “Uh…”

“I mean, all I’ve done is get you hurt. But, but look, you’re still shivering.”

Technically, Sokka is right. Zuko’s…well, he’s trembling a little bit. But it has less to do with cold and more to do with being completely overwhelmed by, well, by a lot of things. Mostly, the almost-naked water tribe warrior in his bed.

That’s not exactly something that Zuko can share with Sokka. But if he gets any closer, than Sokka is likely going to feel the, ahem, _interest_ that Zuko’s…lower body…has taken in everything that’s going on right now. And Zuko would rather die than let Sokka feel his half-hard cock pressed against his thigh. He’s busy thinking of an explanation for why he’s just fine right here pushed up against the wall, when the decision is abruptly taken from him.

“Hey! Hey, what’re you doing in there with the little traitor?”

Zuko’s eyes go wide and he watches the blood drain from Sokka’s face. They’re fucked. They’re _fucked._ Someone’s looking through the little spyhole in the door and they can see the two of them lying in bed together. Sokka’s going to be imprisoned and how will they _ever_ get out when both of them are locked up in cells and –

“Hey, hey, look at this, that new little colony kid is getting some!”

For a few confused moments, Zuko tries to puzzle out what that shout means. In the meantime, realization washes over Sokka’s face, and with it, an emotion like repulsion. “Dude, I’m so fucking sorry,” he mutters.

There’s absolutely no time for Zuko to process those words because the next thing he knows, Sokka is up on his knees and clumsily sweeping Zuko under him. Suddenly, Zuko’s on his stomach and Sokka is above him and oh – _oh –_

The water tribe warrior is exceedingly careful to position himself so he’s not actually touching Zuko at all, whatever it might look like to an outsider who can only see vague forms under the blanket. A distant part of Zuko, detached from the shock of the situation, wonders idly if Zuko pushed back, what he might feel, against the curve of his ass. If Sokka’s brain is as suggestible as Zuko’s.

Obviously, obviously not, because Sokka looked repulsed and why _would_ he be attracted to Zuko? They’d been enemies, and Zuko’s Fire Nation, and he’s a guy, and with the state of his face, and, and, and –

But what if Sokka did like him?

 _Shut up,_ he tells that part of his brain intently. _How are you thinking about that right now? And what is wrong with you? And shut the fuck up!_

“What, kid, you got a girlfriend you’re missing?”

There are other voices now, jeering at the door. Sokka just grunts and shifts back and forth a little, acting, and Zuko feels his face go bright red, so red it hurts.

“You giving it to him good, huh, colony brat?” Someone rattles the door, like they’re trying to come in, and Sokka stiffens.

“Uh…yeah! Yep! Gonna…I’m gonna hump him real good.”

Zuko has to bury his face in the blanket to muffle his scream. _Gonna hump him real good?! What the fuck does Sokka think he’s saying?!_

Apparently, the voyeurs at the door agree. “Ay, you’re super weird for that one, buddy!” someone calls cheerfully, and Zuko nods emphatically into the bedframe.

“Shut up,” Sokka hisses to Zuko, and the firebender resists the deranged urge to giggle hysterically. “I panicked!”

“Hey, hey kid!” The guards are shouting again, rowdy, and Zuko has to wonder if they’ve been drinking. If they’re dangerous. How many of them are out there.

“Little busy here!” To be fair, Sokka does sound strained.

“Heh, is he any good?”

An impossible silence behind him. “Y-yeah,” Sokka stumbles, voice ragged. “Yeah, he’s, um, he’s really good.”

Zuko keeps pressing his face into the metal bedframe. It’s easier that way.

“Firebenders are supposed to be _hot.”_ The voice at the door sounds envious.

Sokka clears his throat. “He’s, um, he’s definitely very handsome.”

Why is Zuko’s mouth so dry? What is that wrenching feeling in his chest? Can he maybe just die now, or pass out for some reason, or _something_?

There’s a pause at the door. “I meant _inside_ it’s supposed to be hot.” The guard sounds disgusted, and Zuko’s face _burns_ with the humiliation.

“O-oh.” Thank Agni, Sokka doesn’t comment on that.

“Listen, buddy, after you’re done, think we can take a turn?”

Oh. Oh. _Oh._

Zuko’s felt fear in his life but this isn’t fear. It’s not terror. It’s something else, something huge and paralyzing that makes him go stiff as a board and so red in the face that he thinks he’s going to cry. Savagely, he bites his lip and tries to focus on that pain through the white noise that’s suddenly raging in his head. Oh fuck, oh fuck, oh fucking Agni.

“I-I think I’m gonna be here awhile, boys.” Sokka stumbles over the words, but he says them forcefully. “I’m taking my time.”

“Aw, don’t be greedy, man.”

“Maybe if you left me _alone,_ I’d be done faster!”

“Jeez, okay, we get it!” There’s the sound of footsteps moving away, but Sokka doesn’t shift from his position above Zuko.

He’s right not to move. There’s the sound of shifting feet from someone lingering. “When you’re done in there, come find me, okay? I don’t mind sloppy seconds.”

Zuko can’t help it, he whimpers into the blanket under him. _Pathetic._ Absolutely pathetic. But he can’t control it any more than he can control the almost violent shaking that’s overcome his limbs. Above him, he can tell from the blanket, that Sokka is shaking too.

“Gotcha. Now, dude, seriously-” Sokka’s voice is tightly controlled, and finally, _finally,_ the last set of footsteps moves away. And Sokka springs off Zuko like the guy’s on fire. Curling up on the bed, Zuko watches numbly as Sokka tears off some cord from the shoulder of the guard uniform on the floor and ties the little sliding door shut. No more peeking.

Task complete, Sokka just stands there for a long moment, hands hanging at his sides. He doesn’t turn around to face Zuko. That’s fine. That’s fine. He – he’s probably going to leave and that’s fine. Eventually…eventually the other guards will come back and Zuko will just have to – he’ll just have to fight, that’s the only – that’s the only –

“Hey. Hey. Hey, breathe.”

It’s funny, because Zuko has spent so much time in his life practicing breathing, and still, he didn’t notice himself hyperventilating. He was too distracted and frantic and fucking _terrified_ to even see Sokka crossing the room when he heard Zuko’s breaths pick up. Now the warrior is sitting down on the bed, stretching a hand out halfway between them, looking too scared to actually make contact. “Zuko, please, c’mon, breathe.”

The firebender can’t move, can’t think, can’t breathe. He just keeps staring up at Sokka with huge gold eyes and Zuko _knows_ it’s pitiful, it’s unbecoming of a man, it’s humiliating, but he can’t breathe normally, and he can’t release the tension from his muscles, and he can’t stop the petrified tears from welling in his eyes.

Sokka swallows hard. “Zuko, man, can I…can I please touch you?” Still trembling all over, chest still heaving with uneven, desperate breaths, Zuko nods. Sokka crashes forward like a wave, throwing both arms messily around Zuko and pulling him in tight to his chest, half-hauling the firebender into his lap. “I’m sorry,” he murmurs into Zuko’s hair, smoothing one hand down his side. “I’m sorry, Zuko, but listen, listen to me, I’m not going to let them touch you, okay? None of them are going to hurt you. No one else is going to touch you and I fucking mean it, I’m not leaving, I’m not leaving, I’m not going anywhere, no one is gonna touch you.”

Nodding, Zuko presses his face against Sokka’s chest and just shakes for a few long minutes. Sokka keeps his hand moving over the skin of Zuko’s back, over his scalp, and slowly, the firebender calms down enough to breathe, quiet his trembling, feel embarrassed about the tears he’s cried all over Sokka’s bare chest. “I’m sorry,” he manages, the first words out of his mouth. “I-I’m sorry, I just-they-fuck-I-”

“It’s okay to be scared.” Sokka says it so softly it brings fresh tears to Zuko’s eyes. “It’s so okay. Just know I’m not going anywhere. And I’m not going to let them hurt you.”

It takes a few minutes for Zuko to gather up the scraps of his courage and force the words out of his mouth. “I’ll-I’ll be fine if you-”

“I’m. Not. Going. Anywhere.”

“You don’t need to-”

“I do need to. And I’m going to.”

Zuko sucks in a deep, harsh breath. He forces the words out, hard and deliberate, knowing what he’s doing to himself and hating it because he’s a fucking coward. “What about Suki?”

Sokka goes still. “What…what about Suki?” For the first time he sounds uncertain.

“If…if…the stuff they were talking about…doing…to me…” Zuko can’t finish it, can’t look at Sokka’s face as the realization sinks in.

Yeah. If the prison guards are threatening to-to-to _gang-rape_ the former crown prince, it’s not likely that a pretty Earth Kingdom rebel is safe from their attention.

Zuko tries to prepare himself for Sokka to leave. He’ll be alone in the cell and he’ll have to stay awake and alert and ready to fight whoever comes. Even if there’s a bunch of them. Even if they have weapons. Even if they throw him in the cooler for bending and leave him there until his fucking _fingers freeze off –_

Sokka isn’t moving. He’s still hugging Zuko tight, at that angle that can’t be comfortable for him, still brushing his hand through Zuko’s hair. Awkwardly, Zuko cranes his neck up to look at the warrior. His face looks carved from granite. Hard and lined with pain. And he’s not moving.

“Aren’t…aren’t you going to go make sure she’s okay?”

Sokka swallows, lets his eyes fall shut. “No.”

“No?”

“I’m not leaving you.”

“But she’s your-”

“Suki is an incredible warrior.” Sokka says it calmly, firmly, and Zuko isn’t sure if he’s saying it to Zuko or himself. “She’s brave and she’s tough and…and I didn’t land her in prison. But I landed you here. And I swore I wasn’t going to let you get hurt again.” He’s looking at Zuko now, so intensely that Zuko wants to shy away, but those blue eyes hold him frozen. “Hell, I swore I wouldn’t leave you back on Appa, after we grabbed you from the Rough Rhinos.”

 _He remembers. Sokka remembers that, that dumb little promise._ Zuko’s stomach is flooded with warmth, but he can’t hold back his incredulity. “She-she needs your help-”

“No.” Sokka sounds utterly, entirely, completely resolved. “You need me.” Zuko swallows hard. “Look, Zuko, I’m staying here. I’ll sleep on the floor. I’ll sleep in front of the door so no one can come in. I’ll stay up all night and keep watch. Whatever you want. Whatever makes you feel safe. But I’m not going anywhere, okay? I’m not going to let anyone hurt you.” He pauses, sucks in a deep breath, and waits for Zuko’s hesitant nod. “And, and yeah, you know what, I’ll pretend to hump you _real good_ if I need to.”

It has to be some kind of miracle that Sokka can make him smile right now, through tears, through shock, through his pounding heart. Someone should tell the Fire Sages that there’s a water tribe warrior working miracles in Boiling Rock, because this shouldn’t be possible _at all._

But Zuko is smiling this tiny stupid smile up at Sokka, and the warrior’s voice is firm and sure and almost desperate, like he needs Zuko to believe him. “I’m not going anywhere, and I’m not going to let anyone hurt you. I’m not.”

“Okay.” Zuko says it in a small voice, and Sokka relaxes his arms, as if testing whether Zuko wants to let go.

Fuck all propriety. Fuck dignity. Fuck pretending to be strong for even an instant longer. Zuko clings tighter. “Okay,” Sokka agrees softly, slinging his arms back around the firebender. “Okay.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Guys I have been looking forward to this chapter for SUCH A LONG TIME and I wanted to post it immediately after I finished it because you all waited such a long time anyway -   
> Please please please tell me what you think! :)


	17. Chapter 17

Completely unsurprisingly, Zuko falls asleep before Sokka. The poor guy’s been through imprisonment and threats of torture and then _actual_ torture and then a scare that…a scare that Sokka really doesn’t want to think about. No wonder the poor guy passes out within minutes of lying down.

What’s a little more surprising is that…is that they’re lying next to each other. Not embracing anymore, now that Zuko’s warmed up, just lying next to each other. Close enough that Sokka can hear Zuko’s slow, even breathing.

It’s just that Sokka had thought – well he’d assumed – well, he’d just figured that he’d be sleeping on the floor. He’d thought that Zuko would _hate_ him when those guards finally left them alone. In the past twenty-four hours, Sokka has gotten Zuko arrested, sent him into a frigid death chamber, stripped him to his underwear while the poor guy was unconscious, and then cuddled the guy back to life. Which was, Sokka remains firm, the best and only thing he could’ve done.

Still, Zuko had seemed _deeply_ uncomfortable when he woke up with Sokka wrapped around him like a baby poodle monkey. And then, and then when Zuko had been absolutely desperate to get away from Sokka, Sokka had, had pretended to _fuck him –_

Stifling a groan, Sokka clenches his hands into fists at his sides and reminds himself not to think too hard about that. He can’t think about it without remembering the _disgusting_ things those guards said. Without remembering the way Zuko had trembled and…and _cried_ and looked so absolutely terrified it took Sokka’s breath away. Without remembering…without remembering…

In the dim red darkness, Sokka’s cheeks are flaming. He’s just grateful no one’s around to see it.

Okay, so it felt…it…it was something, having Zuko under him like that. Holding onto Zuko like that. It was…it was something. It made him feel…it was…

It’s just so hard to explain. There was this roaring in his chest, this clenching rage that gripped him when those fucking guards opened their mouths. It was this falling feeling when Zuko was so damn cold in his arms, and when Zuko shook, and when he turned around for the door and saw Zuko crying for the first time, breathing hard and fast and silent tears tracing silver down his face –

The memory of Zuko crying makes Sokka’s fists clench, even just lying there. He hadn’t cried when they left him to the Rhinos, or when they rescued him and found those horrible welts all over his back. All that pain and fear and he’d stayed stoic, but this, this _broke_ Zuko and it makes Sokka so fucking angry just remembering it. Angry and scared.

But there was also – there was also that glowing warm almost _triumphant_ feeling when he had Zuko in his arms and the firebender slowly calmed, regained his ability to breathe, and rested because…because Sokka was holding him. _Holding him!_ Sokka had just, had just _held_ the fire prince, basically in his lap, like it was nothing. And both of them had just held onto each other so tight. As if it was normal. As if it was exactly what Zuko needed. As if he trusted Sokka. After everything, he trusted Sokka.

Motherfucking shit, Sokka has the biggest crush on this guy.

There’s no hiding from it anymore. There’s no ignoring it or pretending he admires Zuko, or thinks he’s funny, or just really wants to be _friends_ with the firebender. It was one thing when Zuko was just, like, much hotter up close than when he was chasing them. It was another thing when it turned out he had a sense of humor, and was smart, and like, listened to Sokka. But then he had to be all endearingly awkward, and good with Toph, and helpful around camp, and maybe also secretly kind?

Fuck. Sokka doesn’t know what it is, really. Maybe all of it. But somewhere along the way he developed a massive fucking crush on the firebender now sleeping next to him. And that’s just…well, that’s just…

Something he will keep to himself.

After all, Sokka has Suki, who he really likes, who makes him feel warm and happy and excited to see her again. And Zuko has his “betrothed” – the knife-throwing goth girl that’s best friends with his little sister. Frankly, Sokka doesn’t understand the appeal, but it sure makes more sense than a, a water tribe peasant. The two of them together is so far outside the realm of possibility that, that…

That Sokka should really just stop thinking about it. Really. Right now. Stop.

It’s easier said than done when the firebender is lying _right next to him_ giving off more heat than a bonfire in summer. The moment is over – the spell that made holding Zuko feel natural, feel right – and they’re lying next to each other not touching. They’re back to being two guys who are really just starting to become friends. Sokka can’t say he likes that.

With effort, Sokka redirects his brain toward their escape. The bolts have been removed from the cooler, and Sokka has found a place to launch their makeshift vessel. As long as no one notices the detached pod, they should be able to make a clean escape with the help of the volcanic currents. Sokka slips out right before the shift change and makes sure that everything is in place. He gathers Suki, and Zuko, and Chit Sang, and Chit Sang’s stupid little entourage…

But Sokka can’t stop thinking about this stupid throwaway comment he heard from one of the other guards. It was small and pointless and probably nothing, but…but…it sounded like there were more prisoners being transferred to Boiling Rock. Which happens all the time. Which is no big deal. Which, which…

It’s just that some of the prisoners are supposed to be war prisoners. And war prisoners could mean the invaders. It could mean _Dad._

Except he has to weigh Dad against himself. Against Suki. Against poor fucking tortured terrified Zuko. It’s an impossible decision. Leave his dad or risk his friends’ safety, maybe even their lives. And then, and then he’s risking his dad’s life and safety too. And Sokka doesn’t want to be an _orphan,_ doesn’t want to leave Katara an orphan.

In the back of his mind, Sokka remembers how furious Katara was with Hakoda, for leaving. He thinks of all the times she’s made snide comments to Zuko, how the poor guy has proved himself over and over and still, she doesn’t trust him because of what the Fire Nation did to Mom before Zuko was old enough to hold a toy sword. If Hakoda got killed in prison, and it was Sokka’s fault that he was in prison to begin with…what if Katara blamed him? Sokka certainly blamed himself. Would she ever, _ever_ forgive him? What would Sokka _do,_ with no family left?

It’s Zuko, somehow, who sees just how badly Sokka’s doing. How afraid he is. Zuko, who’s been tortured and threatened and still looks ready to jump out of his skin. He suggests that they stay, wait, and see if Hakoda’s in the new batch of prisoners.

And when Sokka suggests that Zuko and Suki go on ahead, the firebender lifts his chin and looks Sokka right in the eye. “I’m not leaving you here alone.”

“Me neither,” puts in Suki, tossing her head defiantly.

Sokka just about melts. Tui and La, they’re both willing to risk their freedom for _him._ Their safety. For Sokka. It’s an honor and it’s inspiring and it’s also…it’s also fucking _terrifying._ They’re putting their faith in him. For about the fifth time, in Zuko’s case.

And Sokka decides to stay. Zuko talks him into staying. He’s sincere and direct and he tells Sokka that failing is a part of succeeding. And Sokka decides he can’t do it, he can’t leave, not when Hakoda could be arriving that very afternoon. He just can’t abandon family to the _monsters_ that run Boiling Rock.

And he prays to all the spirits that are listening that they aren’t watching their last chance at escape disappear with Chit Sang.

When the prisoners step off the tram and Hakoda isn’t among them, Sokka feels like he’s freefalling. Like maybe he should take another look at all of them, even the nose-ring guy, because maybe, maybe, somehow, he missed-

“Hey, you, get out of there!”

The final prisoner steps into the light and it’s – it’s – it’s Hakoda, it’s _Dad,_ and there’s this painful clench in Sokka’s chest that nearly knocks him over. The long dark hair and the injury wrapped in yellowing bandages and the blue eyes set in a scowling face that’s far more accustomed to laughter. Fuck. Fuck, that’s his dad.

Disregarding all subtlety and all safety, Sokka charges down the stairs, dodging bemused guards as he goes. He tells himself it’s okay that he’s sprinting down to meet the prisoners. He can explain it away. The guards aren’t paying attention anyway, and he needs to get down there as fast as he can, needs to see his dad –

In the yard, the warden has ordered the new arrivals into a line. He stalks up and down in front of them, lecturing, grandstanding – and then he has to stop in front of Hakoda.

Of course he does. Hakoda’s Water Tribe stubbornness would never allow him to bend to this man. Pride and fear are warring inside Sokka as his father refuses to look at the warden, even handcuffed, even with the official bellowing in his face.

And then suddenly Hakoda is on his knees, and Sokka feels it like a punch to the gut – the desire to lunge forward, help him up. He can barely stop himself from moving, can’t stop the gasp that bursts between his lips. The other guards will think he’s reacting to Hakoda’s disrespect, or the suddenness, or, or, they’ll think _something,_ Sokka doesn’t care. Right now the only thing he can care about is Hakoda in chains, on his knees before the warden. When Hakoda finally looks the man in the eye, Sokka can’t figure out whether to feel embarrassed, for witnessing his father’s shame, or relieved that he’s out of danger.

And then Hakoda trips the warden, sends him falling on his face, and Sokka realizes, with a falling feeling, that as long as he’s in prison, Dad will never be out of danger.

For now, the warden waves the prisoners away, visibly angry but biding his time. Sokka should be glad. He should be reassured. As recently as a day or two ago, he would’ve been delighted by his dad getting away with this small rebellion.

That was before he understood what Boiling Rock really was. That was before the warden had told Zuko, a teenager, a sixteen-year-old Fire Nation native, that he was going to be tortured. Before guards came to Zuko’s door and threatened to – to –

Best not think about that now. He has another reunion to look forward to – his second in as many days. This time, he takes off the scary helmet before trying to hug his dad. There’s a knot on the back of his head from where he surprised Suki.

“Sokka?” Hakoda sounds baffled. “What in Tui’s name are you doing here?”

“What?” Sokka strikes a ridiculous pose, sticking his nose in the air for effect. “You’re not delighted to see me?”

About then, Hakoda’s happiness at seeing his son again overcomes the fact that they’re currently in prison. He pulls Sokka into a tight hug, and the teenager feels tears pressing at his eyes as he collapses against his father, hugging him back tight enough that it makes the older man hiss through his teeth at the pressure on his wound.

“Sorry, Dad.”

“Don’t be.” Hakoda gives him this fond, soft look, but that just makes the knot in Sokka’s chest worse.

“No, Dad, I’m…” Sokka gulps. The tears are stinging harder now, and he thinks if he opens his mouth again they’ll fall, but he has to force the words out. “The invasion – I’m so sorry, Dad. I let you down. I let everyone down.”

“Oh, Sokka.” His gentle tone is enough to get Sokka truly crying. “You didn’t let me down. You’ve never let me down.”

“But I…but the invasion…”

“Sokka, you’re fifteen.”

“But-”

“No buts, son.” Hakoda rubs his son’s shoulder. “You’re fifteen. You’re brave, and you’re smart, and you’re a natural leader.” Sokka flushes and makes some disagreeing noise, which Hakoda ignores. “And you’re also still a kid.”

“Yeah.” Sokka’s voice is raw and strained. “Maybe. But I’m still – but people are still counting on me. Everyone’s still counting on me. And I screwed up, Dad. I keep screwing up.”

“That’s okay, Sokka.”

“It’s really not, Dad!” Sokka’s voice is climbing into a higher register, a panicked one. “This isn’t – it isn’t the same as forgetting to set a trap correctly, or failing ice dodging the first time around. This is, these are people’s _lives,_ Dad, and I, and I-”

He’s shuddering now, as Hakoda sits him down on the bed with his arm slung around his son’s shoulders. “Breathe, Sokka. Breathe.” Hakoda sounds calm, utterly calm, and it’s such a relief, such a damned relief, for Sokka to let someone else handle things while he sinks in their arms and cries. He doesn’t know anymore if it’s about the invasion, or about getting Zuko imprisoned, or seeing Suki and his father in this disgusting, horrible place. It could be anything, it could be everything. All Sokka knows is that for a few glorious moments, in his father’s dank and depressing prison cell, he doesn’t have to carry it anymore.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Quick lil chapter I wrote in the middle of all my finals because fuck my finals, that's why.
> 
> Thank you ALL for being so patient and waiting so long and I will have longer + more exciting chapters up soon I swear it I'm literally done tomorrow!! So close so close so close.
> 
> Happy holidays and hope all of you are doing well :)


	18. Chapter 18

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> tw for vague discussion of marital rape

In the long, empty hours before Sokka returns, Zuko lies on the metal cot and stares at the ceiling. The prison is almost entirely locked down for the arrival of the new prisoners, so no guards come to rouse him for time in the yard or even the mess hall. All he has is perfect quiet and uninterrupted time to think about – to think about –

_Sokka._

Fucking Sokka. Fucking Water Tribe warrior and his, his know-it-all attitude and his presumption and his-his-

Zuko groans into his fist. He’s trying to be tough, trying to be dismissive, but… _fuck._ Whenever he thinks about it his cheeks get hot. He’d…he’d sobbed in Sokka’s arms. There’s two people in the _world_ who have seen him like that, who have held him like that. One is in the spirit world and the other might as well be, because he has no idea where Iroh is.

Zuko knows it’s bad when not even the thought of his mother and uncle can distract him for long.

What the fuck. What had he _done?_ What the fuck _was_ that? He’d…he’d cried and trembled and clung to Sokka and the warrior had just… _held_ him.

No, not just held him. Held him, and stroked his hair, and promised not to leave. Zuko should embarrassed but he doesn’t think that’s what he’s feeling. It’s something bigger than that, and warmer, something that makes him squirm where he sits. That, the holding and, um, all the things that Sokka had said…It was, it was probably just friend stuff, right? That was just Sokka being a friend. A really, really good friend, but. But it _did_ things to Zuko, okay? It did things to his stomach. It made him feel soft, _too_ soft, like anyone could get inside him and tear him apart.

It’s an unbearable feeling.

For some reason, Zuko likes it.

But he can’t just lie in bed and think about Sokka. He needs to think about their escape, or what he’ll do tonight to avoid the guards. That, of course, makes him think about Sokka again, and if Sokka will be back tonight, and what in Agni’s name that will be like. No matter what he tries, it always comes back around to Sokka, Sokka, _Sokka._ Zuko feels like a lovesick kid.

When the object of his affection ( _obsession?)_ finally knocks on the door, Zuko’s worked himself into such a state he can hardly talk. He slides the little window open on the door, sees the scrap of Sokka’s face and feels his throat go dry. Thankfully, Sokka doesn’t miss a beat. He’s visibly relieved, relaxed, so much happier. He’s found his father. It makes Zuko grin a little, seeing his friend so much lighter, so much more hopeful. He likes the new look in Sokka’s eyes.

Then the guards come. And they say they’re taking Zuko. And all of that newfound happy is wiped cleanly from Sokka’s face. An answering pit opens in Zuko’s stomach, a howling sucking fear that rises up in him and makes him choke. The emotion changes so fast Zuko feels like he has whiplash, like he can’t breathe, like he needs a few minutes for his mind to catch up with the fear that’s already ratcheting up his heartbeat.

“Give me a few minutes,” Sokka insists on the other side of the door, finally bargaining down to seconds before he slips in the door.

Zuko holds up the mattress in front of himself because he doesn’t want to look at Sokka. He wants to duck his head behind the skinny lumpy cushion and hide the way his lip is trembling. The way that Sokka slams his hands into the padding is almost comforting. It gives Zuko something real, a tangible, present violence to react to, to be safe from.

“We’re – we’re going to escape, Zuko. It’s…we just need a distraction but, but in an hour, just be in the yard – we’re going to get out.”

“’kay.”

“It’s going to be okay. You’re going to be okay. Only an hour. An hour from now we’ll be on our way out, okay?”

“Yeah.”

Zuko just hopes that the crack in his voice isn’t as audible on the other side of the mattress, but then Sokka stops his steady rhythm of blows. Zuko wonders what expression he’s making on the other side of the mattress – if it’s frustration on his face, or thoughtfulness, or that scowl he gets when someone he loves is in danger.

 _Cares about,_ Zuko corrects inwardly, flushing. That scowl he gets when someone he _cares about_ is in danger.

Then the mattress shifts in Zuko’s hands and Sokka’s face appears, all concerned and scowling and going instantly soft when he sees the fear that Zuko knows is on his face. “It’s going to be okay, man.” Sokka pushes the mattress further, and Zuko releases it reluctantly, loathe to let the only barrier between them drop. As soon as it’s out of the way, Sokka’s throwing his arms around Zuko, pulling him close. The embarrassing hitch in Zuko’s breath is all too obvious, but Sokka just hugs him tight, tight, tight, pressing his hard, wiry body against Zuko’s. “It’s going to be okay.”

Zuko swallows hard, awkwardly returns the hug far more tentatively, far less sure. Sokka squeezes him even tighter, and Zuko tries to tell himself that’s the reason he can’t quite breathe. Then, when Sokka lets go, Zuko can’t help but feel the loss of arms around him. _Agni,_ he’s so useless right now.

“If you don’t want me to go.” Sokka’s face is serious as he looks into Zuko’s. “I promised you I wouldn’t, and look, I’ll find some way…”

Zuko kind of can’t believe him. Sokka’s ready to risk everything just to keep a stupid late-night promise made to a guy who could barely breathe right. “No,” Zuko manages, voice raspy. “No. I, um, I’ll be fine.” Zuko swallows, and Sokka steps forward and squeeze him tight again, and that stops the firebender’s breath all over again.

Then Sokka’s scrambling backwards, and the guards are coming through the door to grab Zuko. When he feels their hands on him, he can’t help flinching away, recoiling hard. There’s no escaping them, though. They’re surrounding him. He needs to settle, school his face into indifference but – but – but –

He’s always been so goddamn _emotional._ He’s always shown too much of himself on his face. The fear in him is high and writhing, too slippery to tackle. The memory of the threats from the night before burst back into the forefront of Zuko’s brain and he knows the expression on his face must be one of panic. He meets Sokka’s eyes, still choking on terror, and somehow the Water Tribe warrior is looking back at him calmly, face still and reassuring, and even as he’s dragged away, Zuko can see the shape his mouth makes.

_It’s going to be okay._

Sucking in a shaky breath, Zuko squeezes his eyes shut. It’s not like he needs to look where he’s going – the way they’re dragging him, his feet barely touch the ground. They’re all too eager and it makes him cringe, wondering what’s at the end of their march, but then, that’s not helpful right now. Sokka’s helpful, though that thought makes Zuko flush. His calm face, his words. _It is,_ Zuko tells himself firmly. _It’s going to be okay._

The deep breaths only go so far when he can still feel the guards’ calloused hands on his arms.

By the time they dump him in a cell, Zuko’s forced a snarl onto his face, ignores the fear in favor of his familiar old surliness. Deep relief sweeps over him when the guards deposit him in the cell and immediately turn to leave, so much so that Zuko yells a few protests through the little grate at their retreating backs. He makes his voice sound indignant, though for just this moment he feels lighter than air.

“Hey! Hey! I didn’t do anything wrong.”

And then behind him someone clears their throat. Zuko’s already whirling around by the time her deadpan voice hits his ears.

“C’mon, Zuko. We both know that’s not true.”

He doesn’t have time to control his shock, and even if he’d had a moment, he’s not sure he could’ve hidden his surprise. Of all the people he’d expected to see at Boiling Rock – even if her uncle’s the warden – even if –

“Stop gaping.” Mai scowls, and Zuko can’t help the tiny smile that tugs at the edge of his lips. It’s…it’s good to see her. Even scowling, even fists clenched, even here in a Fire Nation prison from opposite sides of the war. It’s good to see her.

When he speaks, despite everything, his voice is almost happy. “Mai.”

“Dickhead.” Mai’s voice is cold as ice.

Zuko ducks his head. He supposes he deserves that. “What…what are you doing here?”

“What do you think I’m doing here? My uncle offered me a chance to see you before he…well. Whatever it is he’s doing with you.” Mai heaves a sigh, as if even the explanation is too boring for words. “I thought I deserved some answers.” She levels her gaze at him, eyes narrowed, the first flash of anger showing. “Even though you disagree.”

“I…” He shakes his head. “I…Mai. I’m, I’m sorry.”

“Yeah, well, you should be.” She’s still glaring at him, but after a moment she drops her gaze, and Zuko’s heart sinks.

Someone who didn’t know Mai as well would see the expression for what she’s trying to make it – disdain. She curls her lip and rolls her eyes and huffs like she’s disgusted with him…but Zuko’s known Mai since they were eight together. He looks deeper, and he sees.

Her shoulders are hitched, and her hands are in fists, and she’s turning her face away not because she doesn’t want to look at him, but because she can’t. She’s angry, all right. She’s more than happy to be honest about that. But more than just being angry, Mai is hurt.

“I’m sorry.” He says it again, quietly, with meaning, and he knows she hears him because she flinches as if from a blow. “I’m…I’m really sorry, Mai. I am.”

“Shut up, Zuko.” Her voice comes fast and harsh, and he winces at the tightly controlled anger in her tone. “Just shut up, okay?”

For a moment he does, hoping she’ll fill the space between them, but then she just stays silent, jaw flexing, hands clenching into fists. Taking a deep breath, Zuko tries again. “You’re here to talk to me, right? So let’s talk.”

A dry, mirthless laugh bursts from Mai’s lips, and her narrowed eyes finally meet Zuko’s again. “Yeah. Sure. Let’s talk. Why don’t you explain to me what the _fuck_ you thought you were doing when you left? What you’re doing here?”

Nodding, Zuko bites his lip. “I…you’re, you’re right to be angry. You are.”

“I know.”

“Just…I…” Guilt rises up in him, fear, a desperate desire to make him understand. Zuko stammers for a minute while Mai looks increasingly unimpressed. He looks at her, really looks at her, his friend, this girl he’s known since they were kids, and takes a deep breath. She deserves an explanation. “I couldn’t do it anymore.” That’s the simplest way that he can put it – no excuses, no dressing it up. “I…I thought about my life and I thought about the future and I…I couldn’t do it. Af…after my time in the Earth Kingdom…seeing how the world saw the Fire Nation…that, that night on Ember Island…I’d just been so angry, for so long, and letting down Uncle, and-”

“Stop.”

Her voice is flat, cold, and even Zuko can’t read the emotion in it. He falls silent guiltily, realizing he was rambling. For a moment she doesn’t speak, keeps her gaze fixed on the floor between them. Then she heaves a sigh that sounds like it empties her lungs.

“You’re an idiot, you know that? An idiot.”

There’s scorn in her voice, yes. But there’s something else there. The smallest possible allowance, just a little opening in the icy wall that is her expression. “I know,” Zuko agrees softly, keeping his golden gaze steady on her face.

She heaves another sigh, and this time when she breathes out, he sees her shoulders slump, in a rare, honest display of exhaustion. It tugs at his heart. “Fuck, Zuko.” She sounds weary. “Fuck. I know you’re prideful and you’ve always been self-righteous and you take this honor bullshit more seriously than a goddamn Fire Sage.” Although he can’t agree with the way she phrases it, Zuko has to nod at the description, a faint grin touching the edges of his lips. But Mai’s not done, and she’s frowning. Zuko gets a bad feeling in the pit of his stomach.

“I get why you felt like you had to do this. It’s…it’s classic you. But just because it was the right thing to do for you doesn’t mean it was…it was _fair._ That doesn’t mean it was right for me.”

Now Zuko’s pride rears its head a little, his anger riles in response to the guilt she’s making him feel. “I didn’t make you come with me,” he points out mulishly.

That’s all it takes. Mai snaps, and snaps hard. “No, you didn’t take me with you. You didn’t even give me the option!”

“You wouldn’t have come!”

“If you gave a shit about me, you would’ve at least asked!”

“Oh yeah right,” Zuko huffs. “You wouldn’t have wanted to! Why does me not bothering to give myself away, why does that mean I don’t care about you?”

“Because you left me!” Mai explodes. Her voice practically rattles the walls, and distantly, Zuko’s shocked. He hasn’t heard her yell like that in years. “You left me! You didn’t think about anyone but _yourself,_ and you left me, and I had to deal with your stupid mess! Did you think…” she shakes her head, snarls, composes herself again. “Did you think for a _second,_ about what you leaving meant for me?”

“That you wouldn’t have to deal with me moping anymore?” Zuko’s voice is positively caustic.

“You selfish fucking ass.” Mai spits the words. She sounds so disgusted that Zuko actually draws back, wounded, stunned by the amount of vitriol that Mai can muster for him. He still doesn’t understand what her _problem_ is. “You selfish fucking ass – we were betrothed. You know what that meant?”

“We were going to spend the rest of our lives miserable, in a sham marriage?”

“I was going to be _safe,_ you fucking prick!”

Oh. Oh, there’s a funny, sinking, falling feeling in Zuko’s gut, that accelerates about a thousand percent when he sees the way Mai’s throat is working, the way she’s clinging desperately to her composure. “I was going to be safe,” she repeats, voice hollow. “We were going to keep each other safe. It would’ve been a fake marriage but at least we wouldn’t have to…have to…”

She can’t say it. Her voice goes out, fades and dies. Zuko swallows hard. “I…you’re right. I’m sorry. You’re right. Just, I...I thought maybe we could find something, maybe we could end up in something…” He swallows hard. “Better?”

Mai shakes her head, still looking exhausted. “Better? My family was ecstatic that I was betrothed to the crown prince. They wouldn’t even have cared if…” she swallows. “If I never had kids. They had my brother for the family name, anyway. Now…”

The simple fact of it stuns Zuko. This, this consequence he never thought about. This horrible, horrible consequence. “I’m so sorry, Mai. I’m so, so sorry.”

“Yeah.” She’s turned away from him again, and her voice sounds thick. Zuko feels his heart throb in his chest and he hopes to Agni she’s not crying. If she cries, he’s going to break. “Yeah, Zuko, I’m sure you’re sorry now. But what does that matter?”

“Can’t you, um, can’t you just not get married?”

“No!” It’s the petulant wail of an upset child, overwrought and wrung out. “No, I _will_ have to get married, and it’ll be to some ancient general, and he’ll…he’ll want…he’ll want to be married, Zuko. Really married. You know what that means.” She glances over at him and the look on her face is one of such simple despair that Zuko feels like crying. “You know what that means for me.”

“Mai, I…” He swallows hard. “I’m…I’m so _sorry.”_

She shakes her head. “I know. I know you are. And that doesn’t…that doesn’t help. That doesn’t change anything. We had a _deal,_ Zuko. We had a, an agreement.”

“I know.” Zuko swallows. “I know. I…I…” Mai waits, lifts an eyebrow. She’s regained her composure. He hasn’t. He can barely talk. “I just couldn’t do it anymore. Agni.” He brings a hand to his face, scrubs his palm across his scar. “I’m sorry. I’m so sorry.”

Mai sighs. There’s something in her eyes – Zuko can’t quite tell what, but the set of her jaw tells him she’s made some kind of decision. He’s hanging on her silence, waiting for her to speak, and her mouth opens –

And then a guard bursts through the door. The frustration is enough to make Zuko want to scream, but Mai beats him to it, so the firebender falls silent. As he listens, the two of them start arguing about protecting Mai. Protecting Mai. Protecting Mai…from…from…

Zuko’s brain is already working overtime, and this thoroughly derails him. His panicky brain switches to this track as he watches Mai’s eyes narrow, her mouth twist in outrage – surely even this drone of a guard can see that this woman does not need to be protected. At least not from things that she can throw a knife at.

Protected…he’s distracted and rattled and still a little stunned but there’s something that Zuko’s missing. There’s something that Mai needs to be protected from, and that means that there’s something going on, and that means that –

In a sudden terrible flash Zuko puts the pieces together. Protecting Mai – a disturbance in the yard – a distraction – Sokka, Hakoda, their mission – escaping – oh, and the timing could _not_ be worse. It certainly hasn’t been an hour, it’s been half that, tops, but this is going down _now,_ and Zuko needs to, Zuko needs to…

Zuko needs to get out of this room. He glances over at where Mai is glaring daggers at the guard, hands fingering her sleeves as she considers drawing real knives. Zuko wants to apologize. He wants to hear what she was going to say, if she was ready to forgive him or utterly erase him from her life. But he can’t give the guard any warning, he can’t give the guard any sign. He closes his eyes and hopes to all the spirits that somewhere in her heart, Mai can understand. He hopes…he hopes that she’s a better person than he is.

The lump in his throat is so big Zuko thinks he’ll choke, but he makes it out the door anyway. Locks it behind him, and he’s not sure if he’s trying to stop Mai or keep her safe. She slides open that door, that stupid little door that lets the guards look in on their prisoners. Zuko hates that window. Hates it. That’s what he hates, he tells himself as Mai peers through, her brown eyes inescapable, fathomless. He doesn’t think he’ll ever forget the look in her eyes as he runs away.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Happy New Year y'all! This is not a very happy chapter, hang in there my friends!


	19. Chapter 19

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> tw for uhhh like fighting? And violence, I guess? They are breaking out of prison :)

Sokka’s already flying high when Zuko comes charging into the courtyard. His adrenaline is pumping hard, a side effect of the shouting and the chaos in the yard. There’s so much going on that it’s hard to think clearly – and hey, for once in his life, he’s not burdened with a plan! There are no details to remember, no schedule to keep to, no crucial points the whole escape hinges upon. Even as the yard dissolves into rioting, it doesn’t matter! None of it matters, because there’s no plan, so there’s no way for anything to go wrong. Sokka feels almost giddy.

Scratch that – Sokka feels fully giddy. When he’d been pulled into the office with the warden, he’d thought it was over. He’d thought that Chit Sang was going to sell him out to save his own skin, and after seeing what they put the prisoners through in the Boiling Rock, Sokka could hardly have blamed him. Instead, Chit Sang had pointed to some other poor sap, and Sokka couldn’t even feel bad for the guy. Poor guard, and who knew what was in store for him, but Sokka was free and the plan was still on and the relief was too big to think of anything else. Besides, Sokka consoled himself as he raced away to find his father and Suki, the man was a prison guard at the Boiling Rock. Like as not, he’d done some things worth punishing.

Settled with himself and with the events of the day, Sokka makes it to the yard and they’re all there – his dad and Suki and even Chit Sang, who is turning out to be surprisingly essential to this disorganized day. And then Zuko appears – looking ragged but whole and healthy and unbruised, and a new wave of relief nearly lifts Sokka off his feet. Now all that’s left is to…is to…well, is to escape the Boiling Rock.

“What’s the plan?” Zuko’s at his side, looking more than a little wild-eyed, and Sokka claps a hand on his shoulder.

“No plan! We’re escaping.”

“No _plan?!”_

“I took your advice! Not to worry so much about thinking through every little thing!”

The look on Zuko’s face, if Sokka had to describe it, is somewhere between exasperation and utter panic. Tipping his head to the side, Sokka takes a moment to wonder if that’s how _he_ usually looks when the others and their magic-bender-powers run roughshod over one of his plans.

“Hey, guys, I, uh, I think your girlfriend is handling things pretty well on her own.”

Startled out of his careful study of Zuko’s face, Sokka looks up to find…yep, it looks like Suki’s handling things pretty well on her own. Watching the ease with which she fairly flies up the tower, dodging guards and fire blasts, already almost to the warden…

“Damn,” Sokka mutters, searching the crowd for Hakoda and Chit Sang. “We’d better catch up.”

It takes some time – Hakoda is still recovering from the injury he suffered on the day of the invasion. Every second they spend in the stairwells, letting him catch his breath, grates on Sokka’s nerves. It’s time they can’t afford to lose, but he’s not leaving his father, not after all this. If Aang were here, if they had Appa, or Toph…but he’s not going to think about that now. The whole point of this was for Sokka to do it by himself, to not put anyone else in danger.

Which he almost did. There’s Zuko next to him, looking quietly pained every time they have to pause. He positions himself behind them every time, sliding subtly over so he’s blocking the path down, hands clenched in fists at his sides. He’ll defend them with all the fire he can muster if he has to, and Sokka feels a stab of gratefulness so sharp it takes his breath away. Gratefulness and guilt. Three weeks ago he’d never imagined he’d feel guilt over Zuko – _Zuko,_ the guy who’d chased them halfway around the world, fought them, harassed them, tried to kidnap a twelve-year-old kid.

Damn. How fast things changed. Sometimes it still made his head spin.

Now, of course, is hardly the time for this kind of reflection. There’s a prison break happening, and Sokka’s supposed to be at the head of it. They’re almost at the roof, with the riot still raging below them, no idea what’s happening with Suki above. Sokka hopes for the best, and charges upward.

By the time the group of them reach the top level, panting, Suki already has the warden bound and gagged. The relieved grin that breaks out over Sokka’s face makes Suki roll her eyes good-naturedly. Everything is still going to plan, which is of course, no plan at all. Glancing at the furious expression on the warden’s face, Sokka shakes his head as he regards Suki, whose prisoner’s clothes aren’t even mussed. “Why’d you bother waiting…for _us_ to show up…before you escaped?”

It’s a little embarrassing how much Sokka is heaving for air, but hey, stairs aren’t easy for anyone. Even Zuko, with his impossible amount of muscle, is panting a little.

Suki aims a tight smile over her shoulder as she nudges the glaring warden onward. “Thought I might need backup.”

As they fairly drag the angry prison official toward the gondola, Hakoda slings an arm around Sokka’s shoulders and pulls him in close. “That’s some girl you’ve got there,” he murmurs to his son, and Sokka grins, despite the electric tension in the air. Hell yeah. That’s some girl he’s got. And his dad likes her – it means more than he even thought it would.

Somehow, Sokka’s happier still when Zuko shoves him out of the way to absorb some guards’ blasts of flame. It’s always nice to avoid being charred to bits, but the new look on Hakoda’s face when he examines the young firebender is worth the feeling of flames shooting past, only inches away. Sokka doesn’t really know why he’s so pleased to see that his father likes Zuko. Probably just because now Hakoda knows that the firebender can be trusted, which, well, obviously he can be. Sokka would trust Zuko with his life. Already has, several times over. 

As he has the entire time, Zuko covers their exit, starting the gondola and destroying the handle so the big machine can’t be stopped. The metal cage is already creaking upward when Zuko jumps onto it, and when he stumbles, it’s Hakoda that offers him a hand. Sokka’s so proud he could burst. He ignores the nervous look Zuko shoots his father. The firebender has more than enough reason to be nervous, given the hell the Boiling Rock has put him through, but if Hakoda likes him, Sokka is sure that everything will work out just fine. Zuko has no reason to dislike Sokka’s father, after all.

Just as they’re safely on their way, hostage in hand, pulling away from the miserable Boiling Rock…Hakoda speaks up, with alarm in his voice.

“Who’s that?”

Squinting through the rising steam, Sokka examines the vague outlines of the people on the platform and starts to get a bad feeling in his stomach. “Uh…”

“That’s my sister and her friend, Ty Lee.” Zuko confirms his worst suspicions grimly. “Which means we’re in trouble.”

From her corner, Suki growls. “That’s a rematch I’ve been waiting for.”

“How’re they even going to get to…oh.”

Hakoda initially sounds doubtful, and Sokka can’t blame him – though the guards cower from them, they’re visibly young, hardly older than Katara, if that. His father probably looks at them as children. Sokka knows better. They’re enemies, and formidable ones, at that.

As if to prove his point, Ty Lee vaults up onto the gondola line, flying up the wire as though it’s a running path. Below her, Azula uses a pair of handcuffs to secure herself to the line, and then starts _propelling herself upward_ with blasts of blue fire. Sokka’s never seen anything like it – so directed and powerful and seemingly tireless. By the tense look on Zuko’s face, he’s not surprised.

Without needing to confer, Sokka, Zuko, and Suki start moving toward the windows of the gondola, to climb up on the roof. Hakoda catches Sokka by the elbow. “Wait!” When Sokka looks back, he sees his father looking frustrated, deeply conflicted. “You…”

What is there for Hakoda to say? _You’re only fifteen_ – but the girls themselves are likely younger. _You can’t fight a firebender –_ but he’s had to before and will have to again. _It’s too dangerous –_ it is, and almost everything is, these days, and as per usual, neither Sokka nor Zuko nor Suki have another choice.

Hakoda knows it all as well as Sokka does, and he still looks agonized. His other hand creeps up to the stained bandage circling his chest. He’ll be no help in the coming fight, and Chit Sang doesn’t look like he’s in any rush to assist them either.

“I’ll be fine, Dad.” There’s nothing else to say. Hakoda looks pained, but he lets his hand slip off his son’s arm, and as Sokka turns away, back to follow Zuko and Suki out the window, he catches sight of something beneath the pain in his father’s eyes. He thinks it’s pride.

Of course, there’s no time to dwell on that now, to bask in that feeling. He has to crawl up the side of a moving metal gondola, suspended hundreds of feet over a lake of boiling water. One wrong move and it’s a long fall and a burning death for him. It’s a good thing Sokka isn’t afraid of heights. By the time he reaches the roof, where the other two are already waiting, Ty Lee is almost at the gondola, with the princess not far behind.

When Ty Lee flips onto the roof of the gondola, landing light as a cat, Suki strides forward without missing a beat. Before Sokka can even think to back her up, he’s confronted with Azula crawling onto the roof like a spider, lips turned up in a vicious smile. With that expression on her face, it hardly matters that she’s a good few inches shorter than him. There’s already blue fire crackling around her fingertips.

Without exchanging a word or even a glance, Zuko and Sokka take her on together. On his own, Sokka would be way out of his element trying to dodge the girl’s fire, but with Zuko absorbing the flames, he does pretty well with his sword. Together, they drive her toward the edge of the roof. When he can spare a moment’s attention, Sokka sees Suki steadily holding her own against Ty Lee. As he watches, the Kyoshi warrior blocks a targeted chi strike and he wants to cheer.

If only Ty Lee was the only thing Suki had to worry about. The reality is far from it – as Zuko and Sokka keep her well distracted, Azula sends a fire blast wide, nearly taking out both girls where they battle, closer to the middle of the roof. Panicked, Sokka redoubles his efforts to keep the Fire Princess’s focus on him. If she burns Suki, Suki won’t stand a chance against Ty Lee. Not to mention…not to mention…

Ty Lee had been as much at risk as Suki when that last gout of flame burst toward them. It had been an accident, right? Or, if the fire princess didn’t make mistakes, then Azula’s fire must have been a misdirect. Otherwise…otherwise the Fire Princess is far crazier than Sokka thought. Would she really burn her friend for the sake of taking out an enemy?

Then again, she is throwing everything she has at her own older brother. So maybe, young as she is, she truly is that vicious.

All of this is flying around in the back of Sokka’s head, but mostly what he’s focused on is _strike, dodge, parry, duck, lunge._ His body moves quickly, almost on instinct. He’s been training these movements since he was old enough to hold a club, and he finds that the slick metal beneath his feet, greased with condensation, is only a little more slippery than sea ice. He’s ready for this. He’s practiced for this, prepared for this. And with Zuko at his side…they’re winning. They’re pushing Azula back, back toward the edge, and her eyes are narrow, furious; her mouth is twisted in a fierce, hard line. She keeps looking at Zuko, more often than she needs to – Sokka thinks he sees some confusion there. Zuko sure seems to be fighting at the top of his game. If Sokka can exploit that uncertainty, that doubt, whether it’s rooted in Zuko’s new mastery, or having to fight her brother –

Before Sokka can press his newfound advantage, they’re all thrown off their feet. The gondola rocks in place, suddenly stopped in its forward progress. Thrown off his feet, Sokka hits the metal roof hard, all the air knocked from his lungs with one brutal thump. The metal surface is wet and slick and he’s sliding – still sliding – now his feet are slipping off the edge, and he’s clawing weakly for a handhold, still gasping for breath, but there’s nothing to hold, not a seam, not a rivet –

Zuko’s hand. It comes down and clasps his wrist hard, almost too hard, bruising hard. With one massive pull, and a grunt to match, Zuko hauls Sokka back from the edge, and all the Water Tribe warrior can do is stare at him, head spinning, still hauling air into his lungs. He almost fell. He almost went sliding right over the edge to a horrible, slow-boiling death, and there was absolutely nothing Sokka could do about it until Zuko grabbed him. Swallowing hard, Sokka finally feels the air return to his body and all he wants to do is grab Zuko harder, maybe mutter a shaky thank you, but there’s no time for that. Zuko’s already dropping Sokka’s arm, turning his gaze upward to where Azula and Ty Lee have regained their feet.

Ty Lee, in fact, is already up on the gondola line, squinting back at the distant roof of the Boiling Rock. “They’re cutting the line!”

_No one’s ever escaped from the Boiling Rock. The warden would rather die than break that record._

So the old man was serious. Even if his suicidal fanaticism sends both the Fire Lord’s children to a watery doom, at least the warden won’t be around to see his anger.

“That’s our cue,” Azula taunts, aiming her fists downward and using the sheer force of her fire to blast herself into the air. “Bye-bye, Zuko.” She soars through the air and lands on another gondola light as a feather. The thing doesn’t even rock beneath her feet. The downward track is still moving – she’ll be back at the Boiling Rock by the time the exit line is severed. For Ty Lee the dismount is not so simple – Sokka can see the strain on her face as she hurls her acrobat’s body across the gap between cars, but she manages it, landing in a crouch. When she looks up, it might be leftover exertion, or fear on her face, from flying through the air toward a moving object above a boiling lake.

But Ty Lee is an acrobat. She isn’t afraid of heights. Sokka almost thinks, as he watches their figures recede, that perhaps Azula’s friend is afraid for all of them.

Right now, Sokka is feeling pretty afraid for himself, too. He slides back through the window to Chit Sang and Hakoda’s drawn faces, tight with unease. “They’re cutting the line,” Zuko announces, his rough voice emotionless. Sokka swallows hard, wonders what the firebender is thinking. If he’s regretting following Sokka into this mess.

Silence reigns for a moment. “I hope this thing floats.” Hakoda’s voice isn’t hopeful. They’re in a metal box. Even if by some miracle it does float, they’d be falling a few hundred feet. The water will be boiling; it’ll splash through the open windows. Once they’re on the surface of the lake, assuming they survive, the currents will ever so slowly meander them to shore, at which point they’ll be recaptured and put right back into prison.

Or into the freezer.

Or put to _death._

Or something…worse than death?

Sokka doesn’t dare look at Zuko.

A few endless, silent minutes pass and then – then –

The gondola starts moving again. It jolts into motion, setting all of them stumbling, but it’s moving, carrying them upward, and they all rush to the window, squinting through the steam. Back on the platform, some distant ally is fighting for them. Sokka speaks for the group, brow creased with confusion.

“Who’s that?”

Beside him, Zuko draws in a sharp breath. Most of the others don’t seem to have heard, but Sokka hears the catch in his throat and looks over curiously. The expression on the firebender’s face is one that Sokka’s seen before – one that Sokka’s _felt_ before. Under the surprise – and there’s plenty of that – there’s gratefulness, mixed with guilt. Whoever is on the platform now is someone that Zuko’s hurt, now fighting to save them. When he speaks, Zuko keeps his voice clear of all that, assumes the same emotionless tone he keeps using, a tone Sokka finds he doesn’t much like. “It’s Mai.”

“My niece?!”

The roar from the warden reminds them all that he’s there, not that anybody really cares. Chit Sang shakes his head, and his voice rumbles out utterly confounded. “Why would the warden’s niece help us escape?”

“She is…she _was…_ my betrothed,” Zuko explains stiltedly.

“And she deserves far better than you.” The warden spits the words at Zuko’s feet, glaring fit to kill. From the look on Zuko’s face, it doesn’t seem like he disagrees.

The gondola reaches the top of the line. Chit Sang grabs the warden, lifting him as easily as if he were a child, and Hakoda and Suki follow him out, and Sokka wants to go after them. But Zuko is caught by the window, staring through mist that’s almost too thick to see through.

“Zuko. We gotta go.”

“I know.”

He doesn’t move.

Sokka lays a hand on the firebender’s shoulder, shakes him gently. When Zuko looks back at him, he looks so distraught it almost steals Sokka’s breath. But all he can do is repeat himself. “Zuko, man, we really gotta go.”

“She’s…she’s all by herself.” It’s so soft it’s almost a whisper. Zuko clears his throat, says it again. “I’m _leaving_ her again, and she’s all by herself. There’s a prison full of guards down there that she’s just pissed off, and Ty Lee and my sister…”

“She’s your sister’s best friend, right?” Sokka is still tugging Zuko off the gondola, and slowly, Zuko is starting to follow. “And the warden’s niece. Those guards won’t hurt her.”

“She crossed Azula.” Zuko’s voice is truly barely audible now. “Azula is going to kill her.”

Sokka opens his mouth, as if he has something to say, and then just stands there uselessly, because what the hell can he say? Zuko crossed Azula, and she just spent fifteen minutes sincerely trying to kill him. And he’s her brother!

“She’s a talented warrior,” Sokka settles on, hating how callous it makes him sound. “I’m sure she’ll be fine.”

The silence beside him, and the anguish on Zuko’s face, tells him his friend doesn’t agree. It doesn’t help that the warden gets a last parting shot in, as Chit Sang throws him back into the gondola.

“Sorry warden,” Hakoda informs the furious man, clearly smug in their success. “Your record is officially broken.”

Skipping over Hakoda as if he’s insignificant as a flea, the warden focuses his eyes on Zuko, and Zuko alone. “Whatever happens to her,” he warns, in a voice that’s shaking with rage, “it is _your fault,_ and yours alone.”

“Shut up,” snarls Sokka, but it’s far too late for that. Zuko finds them the airship, but after that he withdraws. Sokka wants to celebrate with Hakoda and Chit Sang and Suki, he really does. The other three are ecstatic about their escape, overflowing with praise for each other, and in the case of Suki and Hakoda, grateful just to see Sokka again.

And Sokka’s grateful too! He really, really is. His dad is here, and his girlfriend, and a super muscular firebender that’s really only going to be helpful to Team Avatar. Almost everyone he loves will finally be safe, and back together again, and in today’s world, Sokka knows that’s more than enough to celebrate. It’s just that he can’t stop looking over his shoulder, glancing around the room, missing Zuko.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey y'all it's me with an Explanation No One Asked For:
> 
> If you read my "three's a crowd" series you may already know what's up but for those who don't - I have had a difficult time writing recently, after losing a close friend. Writing is something that I love to do and that is usually really easy and fun for me, but lately has been difficult because I've just been like. Sad. Anyway, I thought I'd be able to post all these updates over my winter break, and that...didn't really happen. So I'm sorry. I'm also sorry because with the way things stand, I'm not sure if/when I'll get back to a more consistent posting schedule. Some days are really good, and some days are really, well, bad. I do love this story, and I appreciate each and every single person who takes the time to read it - especially everyone that takes the time to comment! Y'all have been so kind, so supportive, and so excited about my writing, so I'm writing this because I want you to know what's up, not because I feel guilty.
> 
> ...okay maybe I feel a little guilty. But the point is: I am certainly not abandoning this story, or any of my writing, but updates will be pretty sporadic for the next little while. Thank you guys for being patient and for being fans of my work. I can't express how happy it makes me :)
> 
> Love to all! And of course please definitely let me know what you think of the chapter. Bit of a heavy one, here...

**Author's Note:**

> Like everyone else on here, I live for feedback! Please let me know your thoughts, I'd love to hear them :)
> 
> I also just (JUST) made a tumblr and would love to hear new fic ideas or anything like that, so y'all can find me at overcomewithlongingfora-girl on there if you'd like :)


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